Put your trust beyond the skies
by BexM
Summary: When Athos meets a lady who questions all he believes in love, and a tragedy bestows them all, he realises that love and family really are the only things worth fighting for. Slight carry on from 'she of noble blood'
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

He stood silently in front of the piece of stone that marked the end of his world. Sighing deeply and allowing the tears to fall freely, he dropped to his knees. Carefully he removed his fleur-de-lis and placed it on the grave stone. His duty was now no longer to the musketeers, it belonged to someone who needed him more than king or country. Someone who would always be more important.

"We will be together again one day of that I am sure." He whispered. "Until then rest well my angel."


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N So I am back as promised! Thought I would just leave you that little teaser ;) but as you can tell this will be a sad one so tissues at the ready! plan on spending today writing so hoping to have more for you start of the week. Hope all my readers enjoy this ride, let me know what you think reviews help us writers no end! For now though enjoy a very sweet simple first chapter :) **_

* * *

Chapter 1

Aramis sighed deeply finding himself wide awake yet again. He couldn't understand why. Glancing to his left his saw his wife sleeping soundly, her presence and warmth bringing him some comfort from his dreams.

Sighing again he slowly pulled himself out of bed, wincing slightly at the recent knife wound in his side. He glanced down noticing the skin healing well. Quietly, he left the room heading to the smaller room next door. Opening the door he looked in, smiling fondly at the little bundle sound asleep on the small bed. Careful so as not to wake the three year old, Aramis walked in and took a seat on the edge of the bed. Gently, he ran his hand through the boy's dark curls so similar to his own. His son stirred slightly at his father's touch but didn't wake. Aramis ran a hand over his face; his dreams were plagued with worry about his family, even more so when he was separated from them. But seeing Thomas sleeping peacefully and knowing Marie was right next door eased his worries slightly. He leant in and planted a kiss on his son's forehead, pulling the covers tighter round him.

"Sleep well my little soldier," he whispered getting up and heading back to his own bed. He climbed in and smiled as his wife curled into him.

"Are you okay?" she asked, opening her eyes, concerned blue ones locking with his tired ones. Aramis nodded wrapping his arms round her and pulling her flush against him.

"I will be fine. Don't worry, go back to sleep," he assured her, leaning in and planting a tender loving kiss on her lips. Marie responded by pushing herself closer to him, offering him the comfort he very much needed.

"We are fine Aramis. You need to trust that and let yourself sleep," she told him firmly. Aramis sighed.

"I know that, and I will," he said. Marie raised an eyebrow at him, causing him to laugh slightly.

"Go back to sleep Aramis," she ordered but there was a slight gentleness to her tone, as she propped herself up on an elbow and ran her hand gently through his hair, the gesture causing him to relax as his body started to give into sleep. Marie smiled, it didn't take long for sleep to take hold. She planted a kiss on his head before curling up close to him soon drifting off herself.

* * *

"Uncle!" As soon as he entered the house, Athos was assaulted by his young nephew. Bending down, he scooped him up.

"You're getting heavy, little one!" Athos said, pretending to struggle with the young boy's weight on his arm.

Thomas giggled. "I'm bigger than daddy's knee now!" he told Athos proudly.

Aramis and Marie came out of the room and smiled at the sight of their son in Athos' arms. Athos nodded at them while placing Thomas on the ground. "Here, I've got something for you." He reached into the bag he had been carrying and took out a small hat. It was dark blue, similar to Aramis's right down to the tiny feather. Athos placed it on the beaming boy's head.

"Athos! You have to stop spoiling him," Marie chastised him fondly. Athos grinned at the little boy who was tilting his head to look at everyone from underneath the brim.

"If I can't spoil my nephew whom can I spoil?" he asked, as Thomas just giggled, wrapping his arms round his uncle's legs.

Athos smiled. "You look just like your father now."

Thomas beamed and turned to his father excitedly. "Look Papa. Uncle Athos got me a musketeer hat! Now I'm a musketeer!"

Aramis laughed as the thrilled boy pretended to fight with a sword. "All you need is a cape now, right?"

"Don't put ideas in his head," Marie said, shaking her head at her son's antics. "Did you thank Uncle Athos, darling?" she reminded the young boy.

Thomas shook his head and happily ran to Athos, hugging him around the knees. "Thank you," the little boy said, much to his mother's approval.

"You are very welcome, now why don't you go and play?" Athos suggested watching as his nephew ran off. Athos chuckled, shaking his head slightly before turning to face his sister.

"Don't say it! I know he is more like Aramis every day, God help me," Marie said exasperatedly, flashing him a smile, as she went to him sharing a hug with him.

"Oh there are worse people out there. He is going to grow into a fine young man. He is already a good kid," Athos assured her as they pulled apart, Marie just nodded in agreement.

Athos walked to where Aramis was leaning against the wall and shook his hand. "How are you brother? It's been oddly quiet without you around." He really did need to stop getting himself wounded, Athos thought. Although the injury hadn't been serious it had been enough to take the musketeer out of action for a week.

Aramis smiled. "I'm getting better every day. The wound is healing rather nicely I must say. I'm back on duty tomorrow."

"And what about yourself? I haven't seen you since you returned," Marie asked, pouring him some wine and handing it to him. Athos smiled a thank you before taking a seat.

"I am fine. And I apologize for not coming sooner, but duty got in the way." Athos replied, slightly mortified for worrying his sister.

"Have you seen Emilie?" she asked him, and Aramis stifled a giggle at the blush that crept on his brother-in-law's cheeks.

"No I haven't had a chance to. Is she well?" Athos inquired, Marie chuckled nodding her head.

"She is fine. Asking after you as always. You know she is very fond of you Athos and she is a good woman. She has been a great help to me over the last year with Thomas. It wouldn't do you any harm to listen to your heart for once instead of letting your stubbornness rule you!" Marie told him firmly, causing Athos to sigh in defeat at his sister's words. She was right of course, but he had promised himself he wouldn't fall in love again. That was until he had met Emilie, a friend of Marie's with a kind heart, and now he wasn't so sure he trusted his feelings any more.

"How have you still not gotten used to her always being right?" Aramis said smiling, bringing the older musketeer out of his thoughts. Marie shot her husband a look which he replied to with a wink before he took a seat, pulling the little boy who had returned into the room, up on his lap.

"Dine with us?" Aramis asked Athos, as he helped his son cut up the food Marie had placed down on the table. Athos nodded.

"I was hoping to, I wanted to see how you were. Treville was asking after you. Something isn't right, he seems stressed, more so than usual. He told me that he was going to talk to us tomorrow. He is waiting for you to come back. None of us know what's going on," Athos explained frowning slightly. Aramis nodded.

"Doesn't sound good if he is waiting for all of us before he spills," He responded, biting the meat off the fork his son had just offered him, Thomas flashed his father a toothy grin before copying him and eating himself.

"I don't like the sound of that," Marie said. If the captain was worrying about something it wasn't good, especially if it involved his four best men.

"Don't worry darling, I am sure it will be fine. We will be okay. We always are," Aramis assured her flashing her his infamous smile. Marie didn't say anything and turned back to her meal. She wasn't so sure she believed him


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Treville sighed deeply as he closed the door behind the four musketeers. He was pleased to see the wounded soldier looking well, though his trained eye told him that Aramis was still in some discomfort, but not enough to stop him returning to duty.

"So care to tell us what's been troubling you?" Athos prompted his captain. Treville sighed again running a hand over his face.

"Do you remember Lucas?" Treville asked, watching three of the four men nod in reply.

"Who?" d'Artagnan asked.

"He was a musketeer who was disgraced and stripped of his commission a few years back," Porthos said. Treville nodded.

"I have heard disturbing rumors that he is back in Paris. He has his own men and I have a feeling he is out for revenge," Treville explained.

"Then let him." Aramis piped up grinning. He looked around to see somber faces all around. "Come on, do you guys really think he is a match for us? He deserved what he got, he turned traitor against his brothers, and sold us out for money. I don't understand why all of you are so worried," Aramis' voice had the usual ease of confidence. His grin soon faded when he noted the look on Treville's face.

"He has become a dangerous man, driven by rage and bitterness. He and his men are brutal from what I hear from very reliable sources. And I want you all to be on your guard. Take care of all your families. You were the ones that brought him down I am almost certain you are the ones he will come after first," he told them, concern for them and those close to them clear in his voice.

"He comes near my family and I will kill him, I don't care how many men I have to go through to do that," Aramis snarled, feeling Athos put a soothing hand on his shoulder, the older man knowing full well what would be going through his brother's mind, he shared a quick look with the other two and saw understanding in their eyes. They needed to keep an eye on Aramis. He was a lot more like his old self since he had become a father but they knew there would always be that lose cannon buried inside him.

"Don't worry we will be fine," Athos assured Treville, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice, he didn't like the way this had rattled the normally impassive captain. That alone told him this man was a real threat to them.

"You are all expected at the palace for duty today. That's is all." Treville dismissed them, though he caught Athos's arm before he left, making sure the others were out of ear shot before he spoke.

"Just be careful. I meant what I said. Lucas is a threat. And watch Aramis, don't let him do anything stupid," Treville said, his voice tired. Athos just nodded in reply before placing his hat back on his head and leaving his Captain's office.

* * *

Marie wandered through the market enjoying the sun on her face, Thomas clutching her hand as he took in everything around him.

"Mama look, Milie!" Thomas cried happily, pointing to where Emilie was stood talking to a merchant. Marie smiled picking her son up and walking over to her friend.

"Marie. It's so good to see you, how are you?" Emilie greeted her, leaning in and planting a kiss on the little boy in her arms.

"I am well thank you. What about yourself?" Marie returned the greeting. Emilie nodded in reply as the two friends fell into step.

"And how are you young man?" Emilie asked Thomas. The youngster hid his face in his mother's shoulder, shyly. "And where did you get this handsome hat from? It's just like your father's," she added.

"Uncle Athos gave it to me. I am musketeer now just like papa!" Thomas replied grinning, forgetting his shyness in favor of telling her all about the hat and causing Emilie to laugh and Marie to just shake her head in fondness.

"And what a fine musketeer you make, monsieur," Emilie told him, curtsying. Thomas giggled and touched the brim of his hat. Marie put her son down and let him wonder slightly in front of them.

"He is too much like his father. Such a happy child. You are very lucky Marie," Emilie commented. Marie smiled.

"I am. Though the two together can make me go mad at times. You should see father and son together!" She replied, exasperatedly.

Emilie laughed. "I can imagine." She paused for a minute watching the young boy step in a puddle before continuing, "Your brother came to see me this morning before he went on duty. Asked me to dine with him tonight," Emilie told Marie, blushing slightly as the younger girl's blue eyes lit up and she beamed.

"Oh my god he actually listened to me for once! I am so pleased for you. He is a good man, my brother. He has just been hurt too much in the past. But I honestly think you are the person to heal him," Marie said sincerely. Emilie smiled in reply, Marie was about to say something else when she saw her son go crashing into a man.

"Thomas! Watch where you are going!" she chastised him, rushing over and picking the little boy up.

"I am so sorry Monsieur," Marie apologized just as Emilie arrived by her side.

"It's no worry Madame. Kids will be kids," the man assured her, flashing her a smile. Marie returned it, certain she had seen the man before.

"Thomas say sorry to the gentleman," Marie said, shaking the thought out her mind and taking the hat off the boy's head so he could look at the man properly.

"I am sorry Monsieur," He apologized quietly, lifting blue eyes up to him. The man smiled ruffling his thick curls slightly.

"It's okay little one, no harm done," he assured the youngster, before turning back to Emilie and Marie. "I shall leave you lovely ladies to get on with you day," he added inclining his head to them before leaving. Marie frowned slightly watching his departing back.

"Marie are you okay?" Emilie asked bringing her out her thoughts.

"I thought I knew him. It doesn't matter. I better let you go, Athos will be coming for you soon, and I have a son to bathe and a husband to cook for and no doubt two more mouths to feed too," Marie sighed, Emilie smiled leaning in and hugging her friend as best she could with the little boy in between them before biding them both farewell and heading away. Marie watched and turned walking the short distance to her home unaware the man that she had just met was watching her from a distance, smirking to himself in the shadows. This was going to be so much easier than he thought.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N thank you to my amazing followers old and new and to those who have reviewed it means so much to me you have all jumped on this journey. So heads up this will be the last fairly happy chapter as of the next and on wards...I apologise I really do! Please keep reviews coming they help so much am on a role with this one so updates should be pretty regular.**_

* * *

Chapter 3:

Marie smiled to herself as she heard the commotion coming from the front door. Stopping in her work of fixing a pair of her husband's breeches she listened to her son squeal with joy as he was greeted by the three men who had just walked through the door. Placing the needlework down she got up and walked into the hallway seeing Thomas in Porthos' arms while D'Artagnan was tickling him mercilessly. Aramis was stood laughing ignoring the pleading cries of his giggling three year old.

"Evening gentleman. When you have stopped tormenting my son am I right in thinking you are dinning with us tonight?" Marie asked her two friends.

"If you are happy to have us?" Porthos asked, finally letting the little boy go, laughing as he ran off to the lounge to go and play.

"I don't think I have much choice. Good thing you are always welcome, isn't it?" Marie teased.

"And we love you for it," d'Artagnan grinned, hugging her tightly.

"Suck up," Porthos muttered, as Marie pulled away from theGascon, laughing.

"Wine is in the lounge for you. Dinner will be ready soon," She told them heading into the kitchen Aramis following her, he caught her in his arms and pulled her close to him planting a gentle kiss on her lips.

"I love you so much," he whispered as he pulled away, Marie studied him frowning slightly.

"What's wrong my darling?" she asked him noticing the worry in his eyes. Aramis smiled slightly, moving a lose strand of hair from her face.

"Nothing for you to worry about," he lied, planting a kiss on her forehead before heading back to his friends, leaving Mariestanding there, concern creeping through her. She knew he was lying to her. Sighing she went to the food, making up her mind to question him later.

It wasn't after both the musketeers had eaten and bid them farewell for the night that she got a chance to talk to her husband. Aramis was seated on a chair, a glass of wine in his hands, his eyes far away, unfocussed.

"Penny for them," Marie said softly, causing Aramis to snap out his trance and look up at her.

"Sorry I was miles away. Did Thomas settle okay?" he asked her, as she sat down on his lap, snuggling against his chest, smiling as he enclosed her in his strong arms.

"Sound asleep. Now are you going to tell me what been plaguing your thoughts?" she replied, feeling his chest rise and fall as he sighed deeply.

"It's nothing, just the usual. Being back on duty, away from youand Thomas after a week at home, it's just made me worry more that is all," he told her, flashing her a tired smile. Marie returned it, knowing he was keeping something from her but she chose not push it. Instead she leant up and kissed him deeply, pouring all her love into it.

"How about we go to bed and I help you take your mind off things?" she suggested as the pulled away, her hands already pulling at his shirt. A smile crept across Aramis's face, as he took hold of her hands, standing up he pulled her up with him, before scooping her up in his arms.

"Well Madame that is an offer I cannot refuse," he said, kissing her hungrily on her lips, before carrying them to their room.

* * *

"Well I believe this is me," Emilie said as they stopped outside a small house. "Thank you for escorting me home," she added.

"It's is but my duty to escort a beautiful lady home," Athos replied, before smiling. "Besides I wasn't ready to say good night yet," Athos replied honestly, causing Emilie to blush slightly. Athos smiled taking her hands gently in his.

"I thank you for tonight Emilie, and I hope we can do this again?" Athos said hopefully.

"I would like that a lot," Emilie replied, returning his smile. Athos brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it gently.

"Till then Madame, farewell," he said quietly, inclining his head flashing her one last smile before leaving her and heading back to the garrison, smiling to couldn't remember feeling this light and happy in a long_ long _ time.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4:

"So how did last night go?" D'Artagnan asked the older musketeer as they sat at breakfast the following morning. Athos smiled ducking his head.

"I take it, it went well," D'Artagnan said, grinning. "You sure you're rested enough to train?"

Athos raised an eyebrow at the teasing, but D'Artagnan just winked. Before Athos could give him a piece of his mind, they were joined at the table by the other two.

"Boy am I glad all of us are finally here!" Porthos sighed taking a bite of bread, the other three nodded in agreement.

"How did last night go with the lovely Emile?" Aramis inquired, pouring himself a drink and Athos sighed.

D'Artagnan smirked. "The gentleman doesn't kiss and tell, it seems."

Athos glared at the youngest musketeer and his brother in law, "While I am surprised that none of you have anything better to concern yourself with other than my love life, I am also grateful that you care. My night with Emile went well, we hope to see more of each other over the days." He drew a long breath looking at the three grinning faces and wondering, not for the first time, how in God's name had he got stuck with such absolute idiots. "Now, gentlemen, can we discuss matters of slightly more importance?

"Wow she really must be special lady to have had such an effect on you so quickly," Porthos grinned.

"Like I said, not important right now," Athos said, though he was smiling.

"So what do we think about Lucas then? Do you think the Captain is right in what he suspects?" D'Artagnan asked the three older men. Though he did not know the details of Lucas's arrest and firing, he was still skeptical about one man's chances against all four of them. They had taken him out before, hadn't they?

"I think we should be on our guard. Treville was pretty on edge yesterday. He is concerned for all of us," Athos explained. "Lucas has had two years to drown himself in rage and bitterness. He was a good soldier once, one of the best. That is until greed took over."

Porthos nodded. "A man who can sell out his country and his brothers for gold is capable of anything."

There was silence around the table as all of them thought about that. Athos felt Aramis shift besides him, and he knew exactly what was going on in his brother in law's mind, even before Aramis voiced his worries.

"I don't like the thought of the girls left unprotected. I just don't," Aramis muttered more to himself then the others, Athos sighed deeply placing a hand on his shoulder in silent compassion wishing he had words that would offer comfort to his brother in law. He knew exactly how he felt.

* * *

"So come on, spill! How did it go with Athos last night?" Constance asked her friend excitedly. Emile laughed slightly accepting the drink that Marie handed her. Constance did not even remember what life had been like before she had known first Marie and then Emile. The latter had come into their lives not very long ago, having recently moved to Paris. She was from the same town as Marie and Athos, and knew them from before. It hadn't taken long for Constance and Emile to become fast friends too.

"It went really well," Emile said, blushing. "Athos is a fine gentleman. I look forward to spending more time with him."

"Well that's a relief. It would have been a bit awkward at group gatherings if you hadn't gotten on," Marie said smiling, causing the other two to laugh, before they fell into friendly conversation.

A knock at the door caused Marie to frown slightly. It was too early for her husband and the others to be back from duty yet. She got up and went to answer it finding the man Thomas had bumped into the previous day standing on the porch.

"Good afternoon Monsieur, this is a surprise. Can I help you?" She asked him, not liking the look on his face. She studied him closer and something in her mind clicked. The bearing, the clothes, the familiar face. He was surely a musketeer, or probably had been at some point. This couldn't be good.

"I was wondering if your husband was in," the man said, his voice low and rough. "We are old friends, it's been a while since I have seen him."

"Aramis is not here at the moment, but I can pass on a message that you called, Monsieur..." she trailed off not sure of his name.

"Lucas, but there will be no need because you won't mind me waiting," he said, his hand moving to his pistol, causing Marie to swallow hard.

"No of course not, please come in," she agreed stepping aside to let him following him into the kitchen, she shot Constance a look noting Emile and her son were no longer there. Constance smiled slightly and Marie knew she had left to the Garrison to fetch help. They had obviously heard the conversation.

"Would you care for some wine Monsieur?" Marie offered pouring him a cup, proud at how steady her hand and voice were as she silently prayed that help would arrive soon.

* * *

Emile rushed to the garrison, Thomas held tightly in her arms the little boy confused as to why he had been taken suddenly from his home.

"Athos," she called to the musketeer seeing him first, Athos frowned turning at his name, worry evident on his face as he saw her with his nephew but Marie nowhere in sight.

"Emile? What's wrong?" He asked, seeing the panic in her eyes. Emile started to answer when Thomas's voice stopped her.

"Papa," he cried happily seeing Aramis walk round the corner. Aramis looked up confused on hearing his son's voice, it was quickly replaced with fear knowing straight away something was very wrong. He dropped his musket on the table and rushed to Emile taking Thomas into his arms, expert hands gliding over his body checking for any injuries. When he found none he frowned.

"Emile what is going on? Why is my son here?" he demanded his voice shaking slightly with panic.

"A man turned up at your house asking for you. I left with Thomas to come and find you. Constance and Marie are still there..." She didn't have a chance to finish as Aramis handed the little boy back to her and ran out the yard.

"Stay here," Athos told her gently before sprinting after his friend, the other two not far behind.

"Aramis! Aramis wait!" Athos called catching up with him just before he reached his house and stopping him.

"Let go of me Athos! It's him! It's got to be! And they are in there. I can't leave them" Aramis cried trying to break free from his friend's grip, but Athos held on.

"Aramis listen to me you can't..." he was interrupted as the sound of a gun shot rang clearly from the house.


	6. Chapter 6

**_A/N all I can say is I am so sorry for this chapter and those to follow! This was not easy to write. Please keep your thoughts coming._**

* * *

Chapter 5

For a few brief seconds the world seemed to stop. Then as if shaken out of a trance, Aramis pulled away from Athos's grip, racing the last few feet to his home. He flew through the door, the cries leading him to the kitchen where he froze at the scene that greeted him. Constance was sat on the floor, Marie cradled in her arms. Aramis's eyes fell on the blood that was quickly staining her dress.

"I am sorry Aramis she stepped in front of me to stop it hitting me!" Constance sobbed. Aramis didn't say anything. Instead he fell by her side taking his wife in his arms.

"Marie, my love, open your eyes," he pleaded. To his relief she opened them, looking up at him.

Athos knelt down across Aramis, a horrified look etched on his face. But Aramis had eyes only for his wife. He reached for her hand, cradling her face in his palm.

She smiled. "I am sorry love. He said it was a message for you all..." she rasped her breathing becoming shallower.

"It's okay. Don't speak. You are going to be okay," Aramis soothed placing his hand over her wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. He looked at his brother in law, anguish making his voice raw, "Athos, God, Athos, do something!"

Athos nodded, grasping Aramis's shoulder. "The physician has been sent for," he said. He looked at his sister, trying not to panic at how quickly she was losing blood. She had been shot in the chest, and her breathes were becoming more and more labored. "Just hold on darling, it's going to be okay."

Marie shook her head, and squeezed Aramis' hand. "It's okay love, it's okay. Take care of Thomas, tell him… tell him that mama will always love him."

Aramis' eyes were overflowing now, he shook his head. "You're going to be okay, and then you'll tell him yourself."

Marie took a deep breathe, coughing up blood. Her eyes burnt furiously though as she tried to talk, "No… No, Aramis, listen to me! I don't have long," her eyes sought out Athos, and the older man was surprised at not seeing any fear in them. Sadness and pain yes, but not fear. Athos could not have been more proud of his sister, even as he felt like it was him who had been shot. She looked at him silently beseeching him, and Athos understood. The two of them never had needed many words.

Marie smiled at her brother, "You have to promise me that the two of you will be okay." Athos returned the smile for what it was worth, nodding silently, as tears fell from his eyes.

Aramis sobbed, clutching his wife hard and pulling her near, "Please, god, please, please don't do this."

Marie had tears streaming down her eyes too, as she gasped for breath, "I love you, darling. We will…. We will be together again, I swear."

"I… I love you too," Aramis whispered, just as Marie's eyes closed. Her body went limp in his arms, as the last bit of life left her.

"No Marie wake up. Please. Please darling you can't leave me. You can't. Please, oh god, please. Come on I beg of you wake up. Don't leave me!" he pleaded, pulling her body closer to him. "I love you so much please don't leave me."

Athos sat there watching, watching as his sister lost the fight and took her last breath, watching as his best friend's world came crashing down around him.

"D'Artagnan, take Constance back to the garrison and inform the captain of what has happened." he finally spoke, his voice coming out shaky as he fought back his emotions. D'Artagnan just nodded before leaving. Athos continued to watch Aramis. The musketeer was sat rocking back and forth, still begging Marie to wake up. Taking a deep breath he reached out to him.

"It's okay the physician will be here soon. Don't worry Athos, she will be fine," the man whispered resolutely and Athos felt his heart break.

"Aramis… Aramis, brother, she is gone. I am so sorry." Athos told him gently, Aramis's brown eyes glared up at him.

"Don't say that! How can you say that? She wouldn't leave me!" he hissed, Athos started to reply when Porthos arrived followed by the physician and another man. Athos knew they had already feared the worse, their trained eyes had known there was no way Marie would have survived that shot.

"Aramis please she is gone. She isn't going to wake up. Brother, I am so sorry," Athos said wrapping an arm around Aramis's shoulder his other hand gently prising Aramis's hands off his wife's body, Porthos knelt down on his other side helping Athos.

"No she wouldn't leave me she wouldn't leave us!" Aramis muttered over and over.

"Take her please," Porthos said to the two men stood by him.

"My deepest sympathy gentlemen," the physician said sadly before they left with Marie's body.

"No, no! Why are they taking her?" Aramis cried, looking up at Athos. Athos said nothing as he watched realization fill Aramis's eyes as his whole body started trembling. He fell against Athos, tears falling heavily, the understanding that he would never see his wife again unleashing a torrent of tears.

Athos held him tight as he felt the musketeer's entire frame tremble as the sobs racked through him.

"I am so, so sorry Aramis," Athos said, knowing his words weren't being heard. Not really. He himself felt numb.

* * *

By the time Treville arrived at the house Aramis was sat silently on a chair, his hands and clothes still covered in his wife's blood.

"Athos I am so sorry," Treville said greeting the two men. Athos just shook his head, his eyes not leaving Aramis.

"Let's get him back to the garrison. Get him cleaned up, I will get the physician to give him something that will let him sleep tonight," the captain suggested. Porthos nodded going to his best friend and kneeling down in front of him.

"Aramis. You need to come with us. Let's go back to the garrison. Get you cleaned up," Porthos told him gently, feeling him tremble under his touch. Aramis didn't respond, instead he continued to stare blankly at the floor.

"Aramis please," Porthos begged him, hating the silence. Sighing the big man got up, and easily and carefully pulled Aramis up allowing the smaller man to lean against him as he led him out his home. Athos and Treville following them silently.

Athos wiped at his eyes surreptitiously, straightening his shoulders. The grief at having lost the last of his family, his little sister, was threatening to crush him, but he fought it off. He would grieve for his sister alone, later. Right at that moment the broken man needed his attention. He knew all too well what it felt like to have all that you love snatched away in a single instance, to have the world as you know it crash down around you

He wouldn't let Aramis go through this alone, he vowed. He had a promise to keep.


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N wow thank you for all your amazing comments I love you all! please keep them coming I think is my favourite yet! There won't be an update now till over the weekend a bit busy and need to write some more. So I shall leave you with this fairly short chapter. thank you all again! **_

* * *

Chapter 6

Once they were back at the garrison, they led Aramis to Athos's rooms. Athos took his brother from Porthos so that the other man could go get some hot water to clean the blood from his hands.

"We will be okay with him captain," Athos said looking up at the older man.

"I will go and get the herbs that will help him sleep. I won't be long," Treville replied. Athos merely nodded as he helped Aramis down on the bed. Still Aramis said nothing. Athos was certain the younger man had no idea where he was or what was going on.

"Aramis we need to get you into some cleaner clothes." Athos spoke to him gently, though he knew it fell on deaf ears. Sighing deeply he carefully slipped his friend's shirt off over his head just as Porthos returned carrying a large bowl of hot water. He placed the bowl down on the floor next to Aramis as he knelt down in front of him. He gently took one of his blood stained hands in his and started to clean the blood from them, as Athos went in search for one of his shirts. By the time he returned Porthos had finished, he looked sadly at Athos, and Athos knew he was fearing the same. Aramis wasn't responding to anything. His mind had shut down completely and it worried them. It meant they couldn't get to him, couldn't help him. Not saying anything Athos helped Aramis into a fresh shirt while Porthos pulled off his boots. By the time Treville returned Aramis was clean and slumped on the bed, his eyes dull and vacant.

"Here. I will leave you two to get him to drink this. Till tomorrow gentleman," Treville said handing Athos the cup and biding them farewell knowing he had to talk to them about what had happened but also understanding that right now wasn't the best time.

"Aramis, drink this for me brother. It will ease your pain," Athos told him quietly lifting the cup to his mouth. To his relief Aramis drank the liquid.

"That's it. Don't fight it," Porthos muttered, as he pulled the covers over Aramis, who responded to the warmth, his eyes getting heavy as the medicine took it's hold pulling him into a dreamless sleep. Athos let out a deep breath, running a hand through Aramis's dark curls.

"God, have mercy on this poor soul. Give him the strength to get through this," he whispered, dropping on to the chair by the bed, exhausted from the events.

"I am going to check on D'Artagnan and Thomas," Porthos said, deciding to leave Athos to his thoughts. Athos nodded slightly in reply, but didn't look away from the sleeping man in front of him.

* * *

Athos didn't know how long he had been sat, lost in his thoughts and memories of his little sister, before he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Emile standing behind him, her eyes filled with compassion.

"May I join you?" she asked him. He nodded in reply and watched as she pulled a chair up next to him.

"How is Aramis?" Emile inquired studying the marksmen still sleeping soundly.

"Broken. The hardest thing is we can't get to him, he has shut down so completely that I know not what to do," Athos replied honestly. "But at least for tonight, that's for the best. It saves him from the pain for one more night, numbs the reality of everything." He added quietly. He felt Emile take his hand in hers and wrap her other arm around his shoulders. Athos, for once, didn't refuse the comfort.

"It's okay to cry you know. No one will judge you. Aramis is asleep and it's just me here. Grieve for her Athos," Emile said gently.

Athos started to shake his head, but she held on resolutely and suddenly it was too much. He thought about his little sister, about her laugh when she was happy and her blazing eyes when she was angry, he thought about childhood spent at the manor, keeping an eye on the two little ones as they rose hell for the servants. He thought about Marie's wedding day and how happy she had been, he thought about when Thomas was born and how amazing she had been as a mother. He thought about the brother he had lost and the sister that followed him.

Athos did not now for how long he sat there, sobbing and crying in Emile's arms, as she held him throughout.


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N thank you for reviews and welcome new followers hope you enjoy this emotional ride. Nice long chapter for you and I may have another up tomorrow too. keep your thoughts coming **_

* * *

Chapter 7

Porthos stopped outside the room that held the three year old who had so suddenly become an orphan, losing his mother to death and his father to grief. He swallowed hard before gently knocking on the door, opening it slightly and peering in. D'Artagnan looked up and nodded for him to come in. Porthos noted the little boy curled up on the bed sleeping soundly with all the innocence of a child, oblivious to the real world.

"How is Aramis?" Constance asked as Porthos leant against the wall. He sighed deeply, shaking his head slightly.

"Not good. He has been given something to let him sleep tonight. To stop his pain just for one more night. But he has completely shut down. I just...we don't know what to expect from him," Porthos tried to explain to them.

"And Athos?" D'Artagnan questioned, pulling Constance closer to him as she broke into fresh tears as her heart went out to their friend.

"I don't know. I think he is more worried about Aramis at the moment," Porthos replied, nodding to the little boy on the bed in front of them. "How is Thomas?" he asked.

"Thank god, he doesn't understand. Took us a while to settle him. He just kept crying for both Marie and Aramis," d'Artagnan answered. Porthos just nodded, the three falling into silence as the harsh reality of everything that had happened that day slowly sunk in.

* * *

Athos opened his eyes the following morning, blinking a few times as his vision came into focus. It took him a few moments to realize he was in Porthos's room, and just a little longer for the memories of the night before to come flooding back. It hadn't been a dream. The hellish nightmare was what his life was now. His breathe quickened as he held back tears, wishing for a moment that he could just die.

Shaking his head of such selfish thoughts, he sat up. Aramis needed him right now. Speaking of, why wasn't he with him?

"You are awake. How are you feeling?" A voice caused him to look round quickly just as Emile entered carrying some food and drink on a small tray.

"What am I doing in Porthos's room? Why am I not with Aramis? You had no right to bring me here, to take me away from my friend, my brother when he needed me the most!" Athos snapped at her. Emile watched him for a few moments, before walking over and taking a seat next to him.

"You cried yourself into exhaustion last night, Athos. In such a state, you were no use to anyone. Porthos brought you here to sleep, and then he went back and stayed with Aramis all night. We would never have left him alone," Emile explained to him calmly, grateful to see his eyes soften as he looked at her, his shoulders slumping.

"I am sorry that was uncalled for. Please forgive me," Athos apologized bringing blue eyes up to meet hers. Emile smiled softly.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," she assured him, squeezing his hand gently just as knock came.

"Come in," Athos called out and both D'Artagnan and Porthos walked in.

"The Captain wants to see us," Porthos told him. Athos just nodded glancing at the woman next to him. Emile understood.

"I will stay with Aramis until you come back. Hopefully he will keep sleeping. God knows he needs the rest," she assured them, squeezing Athos's hand one last time before getting up and leaving. Athos could feel two pairs of eyes on him. Choosing to ignore them as he was in no mood to talk he pulled himself up and led the way out the room to Treville's office, after straightening the uniform he had slept in.

* * *

Treville looked up on hearing the three musketeers walk in. His eyes fell immidiately on his lieutenant. Athos looked exhausted. The captain knew that even though Athos would be battling a thousand emotions over what happened to his sister, outwardly he would remain calm and stoic for Aramis' sake, if nothing else.

Athos was an expert at bottling up his feelings until they choked him and he started drowning.

"First of all Athos my deepest sympathies are with you. I loved your sister like she was my daughter. She will be surely missed. I am sorry," he said sincerely. Marie had meant a lot to him, it was hard not to love her easy going nature and her ready smile. In a few short years, she had grown close to each of them.

"Thank you," Athos muttered in reply, "but I would rather you tell us why we are here." He looked expectantly at the older man. Treville nodded.

"It's not safe for Thomas and the girls to be here," Treville told them.

"Well then where do you propose they stay? Here at least we can keep an eye on them," d'Artagnan asked, frowning slightly.

"They are to go to a safe house, Aramis as well. He isn't safe here, not now," Treville replied.

"Aramis stays with us," Athos stated, his eyes meeting the Captain's the look in them telling him it wasn't up for question. It was Porthos who tried to object.

"You can't take him away from Thomas! That little boy is all Aramis has left now!" the musketeer protested. Athos turned to face him, his eyes blazing with emotion.

"You think I don't know that? You think I don't know that Thomas is the only thing that is keeping Aramis alive! Keeping him with us?" he fired. "But he has lost his wife, his whole world and we have no idea how he will react to that, how he will deal with it. And I don't want him to be near Thomas or the girls when we don't know what he will do," he said, his voice faltering near the end. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and turned to see D'Artagnan staring at him. Athos let out a shaky breath and straightened himself up looking at Porthos who just nodded in agreement. He then turned to his captain.

"I just ask that we stay together until we have buried my sister. Then you are right, the girls and Thomas need to be taken somewhere safe," Athos agreed. Treville nodded.

"Of course..." he was stopped from saying any more as a commotion could be heard from outside.

"Get off me! I want to see my son." Aramis's distressed voice travelled to the four men. Within moments Athos was out of the door, the others following not far behind. He found Emile trying desperately to coax him back to the room. She looked up sending Athos an apologetic look. He glanced at his two friends standing behind him before walking up to Aramis.

"Emile, go and tell Constance to bring Thomas to my room please," he told her quietly, nodding slightly. She did not reply, leaving quickly instead to do as he had said.

"Come on Aramis let's get you back to the room," Athos said gently, wrapping an arm round the musketeer, feeling the presence of others right behind.

"No get off me! I want to see my son, and then I want to go home," he snapped trying to break free of his friend's strong grip.

"You aren't going home Aramis. Not yet. And I promise you, come back to the room and Thomas will be there," Athos told him, easily holding him in his grip. He felt Aramis cease fighting, and let him lead him back from where he had come.

Treville watched deciding to leave the three friends to deal with Aramis in the best way. He sighed sadly as he walked back into his office closing the door behind him. Taking a deep breath he allowed a few tears to fall. What was to come was going to be the toughest thing those four had ever dealt with. He sent a prayer to the heavens asking God to give strength to these men who were like sons to him.


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N the end of this chapter to so long to write but think it's right now. More in the week. which is why I have left you two updates this weekend. Thank you for your kind words.**_

* * *

Chapter 8

The three musketeers stood watching the forth as he sat silently on the bed. He had drawn back into himself quickly as they had led him back to the room, and this was exactly why Athos had spoken against Aramis leaving their care. His emotions and mind were all over the place, he needed the three who knew him best to guide him through his pain as best they could.

The door opened bringing them all out their thoughts and the three year old tore from Constance's arms running to his father and throwing himself at him.

"Papa!" Thomas cried as Aramis scooped him up, bringing the boy so close to him, and clinging to him tightly as his tears fell once again.

"Thank god you are safe. No one will take you from me. No one," Aramis whispered, clutching his son tightly. Athos watched trying in vain to keep a hold on his emotions, though he soon found it all too much and the need to escape from everyone soon overwhelmed him.

"Porthos, D'Artagnan stay and keep an eye on them," he muttered. Both of them nodded, concern and understanding evident in their eyes, at the sudden change in the older man.

"Of course. Are you okay?" D'Artagnan asked. Athos nodded.

"I just need to...I need to go and see my sister," he replied quietly. Realization dawned on both their faces. Porthos reached out and patted his shoulder.

"Take your time. We will look after them here," he assured him, Athos flashed him a small smile, and glanced at the father and son still on the bed. Thomas was now chatting happily to his father still held tightly in Aramis's arms. Athos smiled softly at the sight and left, heading to the burial house. He needed to say his goodbye alone.

* * *

It seemed that the Captain had spent the rest of the previous day making arrangements to have Marie taken to the church and prepared for her burial. Athos was grateful for this he didn't think he could have handled seeing her on a cold slab.

"Good day Father. I have come to see my sister," Athos greeted the priest.

"I have been waiting for you. Captain Treville said you would be coming to visit her soon. Follow me. She is in a private room. Marie was loved in the church, I am sad to see her pass into God's hands so soon," the priest said kindly as he led Athos to a small chamber. Athos nodded a thank you and waited for the man to leave before he took the remaining few steps to where his sister lay.

Athos stood motionless for a while his eyes falling on the girl in front of him. She looked as if she was just sleeping, her skin pale and flawless, her face filled with youth and innocence. She looked so peaceful and beautiful. He reached out to her, running a hand through the long dark curls that fell round her face. Leaning in he planted a gentle kiss on her forehead, before resting his palm against her cold skin, as he tried to fight back the tears. He straightened up and took a seat next to her, resting his chin up on cupped hands.

"I don't think I ever expected this to happen this way. I always expected it to be the other way round. It should have been the other way round, this… this isn't right. I shouldn't outlive you, I am a musketeer, a solider I should be the one lying here because of a bullet not you..." he trailed off his voice dying in his throat as his tears fell.

"What am I supposed to do Marie? Please tell me what do I do? You didn't have to leave us! You could have held on, you could have chosen to fight! But you didn't you gave up. You chose to leave your son motherless and your husband a widower. Why? Why the hell didn't you fight?" he shouted getting up and turning his back to the coffin, his anger quickly turning into sorrow it all becoming too much. He stood for a few moments his body shaking as silent sobs racked through him, before turning and walking back to where his sister lay. He dropped back down on the chair his legs too weak to keep him standing.

"I am not angry at you. I could never be angry at you. You made me a better person Marie. You have given me a chance to love someone again, to find happiness. I will look after Thomas, lay down my life for him if I have to. And Aramis, I promise to you that I will not let him suffer alone, no matter how hard things get he will never be alone," he vowed. "Be at peace, now my beautiful little angel. Go and cause havoc in the heavens with our brother, and keep watch over us. And know you will always be in our hearts. You will never be forgotten," he whispered getting up and placing one last kiss on his sister's forehead before placing his hat on his head and leaving the church.


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N nice long update for you as there will be nothing till the end of the weekend now. Thank you for your support. Please continue to let me know thoughts. Thank you again**_

* * *

Chapter 9

It was the love and friendship that the queen and Marie shared that had brought Athos to the palace. He now stood outside the queen's chambers waiting to be seen. The two woman had continued to be close friends even after the three years following the incident with Rochforte, and he hadn't wanted her majesty to hear that her close friend and confidant had passed away from some official. He respected her too much for that.

"Her majesty will see you now," one of the ladies-in-waiting told him, making him sand straighter. He nodded a thank you before stepping into the chamber.

"Athos. This is a nice surprise. What brings you here when you are not on duty?" Anne greeted him warmly. Athos did not answer at first, his mind trying desperately to figure out how to tell her what had happened without letting his emotions get the better of him. His face must have betrayed his feelings as the queen turned to her hand maidens. "Leave us please," she dismissing them leaving just the two of them alone. She went up to him and placed a gentle hand on his arm.

"Athos, tell me what has troubled you so that it has brought you here? Is there something wrong?" Anne asked him gently.

Athos cleared his throat before speaking, "No your majesty. I wanted to be the one to tell you. I didn't want you to hear from anyone else." Athos searched frantically for the right words to break the news.

"Tell me what? Athos what has happened?" Anne asked again, this time the panic evident in her voice.

"It's Marie. She… she died yesterday. She was shot..." he stopped taking a shaky breath to try and regain a control of his emotions. He was still raw from the loss of his sister. He didn't know if the gaping hole in his chest left by her death would ever cease to hurt.

"No! Oh God," Anne whispered dropping into a chair, as tears rose in her eyes. "Who would do such a thing? Poor Marie, she never harmed a soul!" She turned inquiring blue eyes onto Athos.

"A disgraced ex-musketeer who is out for revenge," Athos replied, dropping his gaze to the floor. Anne stood back up, facing the grieving musketeer. She could see the signs of how much this had hurt him on his face. The pale color, the bloodshot eyes with dark circles underneath, it didn't look like he had slept or even rested for a single minute.

"Athos I am so sorry. I loved Marie so much, she was a good friend. A kind and brave woman like none I had ever met, she was as close to me as if she was my own sister. If there is anything I can do, let me know," Anne said, placing a gentle comforting hand on his arm.

"Thank you for the kind words, your majesty."

"Tell me how is Aramis?" she asked him, fearing for the younger musketeer. Athos shook his head.

"He is not well, and I fear he will only get worse," he told her, his voice breaking at the thought of his brother. Anne squeezed his arm one last time before removing her hand.

"I can only imagine; to have the woman he love taken away so suddenly and cruelly, he must be besides himself. And oh, poor darling Thomas, to lose his mother so young. This is a wretched day indeed!"

Athos kept quiet. He did not have any words of comfort for the queen. How could he when he himself couldn't believe the injustice of it all. It was a cruel and sadistic god that Aramis believed in so much.

Anne seemed to visibly compose herself as she took a deep breath and looked at Athos. "When are you having the funeral?"

"Tomorrow. We will say goodbye tomorrow." Athos replied. Anne nodded.

"I would like to come then, if that's alright. I would like to be there for Aramis and the little one, and for… Marie"

A soft smile came over Athos' face as he looked at the queen. The woman knew that the threat of the rogue musketeer was still very much present but she wouldn't let that stand in te way of saying goodbye to a dear friend. Athos had always known that the queen was a woman of strong character but it was nice to be reminded from time to time. "I am sure Marie would have liked that," he said, nodding.

"Then I will see you tomorrow, but for now you must go back to your brother. Your place is with him as is D'Artagnan's and Porthos's. He needs you all more than he ever has. My prayers go with you," she said. Athos nodded bowing slightly before he left silently. Anne watched him go before sinking back into the chair, letting her tears fall as she cried for her friend.

* * *

Athos arrived back at the garrison just as the sun was starting its decent, and the darkness had started to creep through the streets of Paris. But for once Athos welcomed the darkness with all its sinister shadows and secrets. The bright gaiety of day just seemed wrong, today.

If this was any other death that had happened on his watch, he would have made his way straight to the tavern. God above knew he had drank enough when he had buried his brother. But this time, he resisted the urge. He couldn't allow himself to drown his sorrows and greif in wine. Too many people needed him sober.

"Athos! Thank god! Where have you been?" Porthos greeted him, Athos frowned noting the stressed look on his friend's face.

"I was at the palace. The queen needed to know. What is wrong?" Athos asked, as he followed his friend quickly back to his rooms. Porthos stopped before turning to face his friend, worry etched on every part of his face.

"It's Aramis. He doesn't believe she is dead, Athos. He thinks she is missing, that she has gone somewhere. I don't know what..." Porthos trailed off as he watched the look that crossed the older man's face.

"Take Thomas back to your room tonight. I will talk to him." Athos said, his heart sinking at what he had just been told.

"Do you want me and D'Artagnan to help you with him? He isn't going to be easy to handle when you tell him what's really happened," Porthos pointed out gently. Athos shook his head.

"No I need you to look after the girls and Thomas. I can take care of Aramis," Athos replied. Porthos nodded, understanding. Athos smiled softly before opening the door finding Aramis pacing the room his son held firmly in his arms. He stopped on hearing the door open, fixing panicked brown eyes on the two men who entered.

"Athos! Thank god you are here. Marie, she has gone missing! I tried to go look for her but Porthos won't let me leave," Aramis explained to his friend, his voice raw with worry. Athos bit down on his lip, hating to see his friend in this state, and hating the thought of having to crush whatever wall he had built in his mind to shield himself from the truth.

"Aramis, how about you let Porthos take Thomas and then you and me can try and figure out where Marie has gone. Thomas will be safer with Porthos, away from this," Athos suggested watching Aramis eye Porthos up before finally nodding agreement.

"You be a good boy for Uncle Porthos okay. Papa loves you," he said to the little boy planting a tender kiss on his cheek and handing him over, Thomas happily waved to his father before turning his attention on to Porthos, talking away as they left.

Athos racked his mind, trying to figure out how he was going to tell the musketeer what had really happened. It worried him that Aramis didn't remember, and he wondered if putting him to sleep the previous night had been the best idea. He knew what he had to do. It would completely ruin Aramis, he knew that. But it was the only way to make Aramis believe what had really happened.

"Aramis, come with me brother. I know where she is. I will take you to her," Athos told him. Aramis didn't say anything. He just nodded, looking at Athos eagerly, his dark eyes holding complete trust in them as he followed Athos.

* * *

"Why are we here? Why have you brought me to the church?" Aramis asked, as they headed down the aisle. Athos caught the eye of the priest who just nodded silently on seeing who was following close behind. Taking a deep breath Athos came to a stop outside the chamber he had hoped he wouldn't have to visit again.

Athos did not reply, instead he opened the door. Aramis frowned stepping into the room. His eyes fell on the body of his wife. For a second he froze. Then he rushed forward, everything coming back to him in a rush, as he stood beside the cold stone slab on which his beautiful wife lay. The sound of a gun, Marie lying in his arms dying from a shot to her chest. Her last words to him before life was cruelly taken from her. Strong arms caught him as his legs gave way.

"It's okay I've got you," Athos's soothing voice broke through his pain. Aramis felt sick, as his eyes again refused to move from the girl in front of him. Pulling away from the comfort of Athos's arms he straightened up. Athos stood back watching silently.

Aramis reached a shaking hand out to her, feeling her ice cold skin as he touched her cheek. He recoiled so violently that he fell back slightly. Athos moved to help him but stopped on seeing him regain balance and move back towards her.

"You can open your eyes now, my darling. Please wake up. Come back to me. I love you, I need you," he whispered, as the tears started to fall. "I am so sorry. I let you down. I promised I would protect you always but I didn't. This is my fault. I should have been able to save you. I am so sorry please, oh god, my dear darling Marie, please forgive me," he sobbed, his legs giving way as he crashed to the floor, hysteria kicking in as he cried for his lost love.

Athos fell by his side wrapping him in his arms as he held him close. He breathed deeply fighting his own tears as he felt every bit of his brother's pain. He ran a hand up and down Aramis's back repeatedly, in an attempt to offer him some comfort, but he knew it was a wasted effort. Aramis was completely lost to grief and Athos knew there was nothing that could be done or said that would make his hell even a little bearable.

After a while when Aramis's sobs became weaker as exhaustion took over, Athos decided it was time to get out of this room full of death and make their way back to the garrison.

"Let's back to the garrison Aramis. You need to sleep," Athos said gently, easing his friend up carrying most of his weight.

"It's my fault. I should have saved her," he muttered as Athos led him out of the church.

"This is not your fault. You could not have saved her, Aramis. Please believe me, Marie would not want you to blame yourself." Athos begged him. The vacant look in the musketeer's eyes told him though, that his words hadn't even been heard, much less understood.

Porthos was there to greet them when they stepped into the courtyard by this time Athos was all but carrying Aramis.. Porthos merely nodded when Athos shot him a look that clearly said that he would explain later, and helped Aramis to Athos's rooms, laying the musketeer down on the bed as Athos quickly removed his boots. To their relief Aramis did not fight sleep and was settled in seconds.

"I took him to see Marie. It was the only way I could think of to make him understand what had happened," Athos answered Porthos's silent question.

"I know you are going to stay with him tonight and I am not even going to try and change your mind but please make sure you get some rest yourself. Tomorrow is going to be a tough day for everyone. Leave Aramis to me and D'Artagnan tomorrow. You need to mourn your sister," Porthos told him. Athos just nodded, kicking his boots off and collapsing on the bed next to Aramis. The younger musketeer instantly curled against him, seeking warmth and comfort. Porthos smiled heading to the door.

"Good night Athos," he said to his friend, Athos inclined his head towards him, watching him leave before sinking further on to the bed closing his eyes. Surprisingly, he found himself drifting into an uneasy sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N thank you to new followers and thank you to Jane especially for all your amazing reviews. Sorry this took so long this bit is so hard to write and due to busy life getting in the way there won't be an update now till at least Sunday. So I leave you with this long chapter. Next time we will say good bye to Marie :( please don't be a silent reader reviews are welcome :)**_

* * *

Chapter 10

Athos sat silently on their usual bench the following morning. Shivering slightly, he pulled the black cloak he was wearing tighter round himself. The dull morning suited his emotions, as he sat swept up in his own dark thoughts of the day ahead.

He was so lost in his mind that he didn't notice D'Artagnan sit next to him until the young musketeer placed a gentle hand on his arm. Athos jumped slightly, snapping his head round to see who had startled him, he relaxed on seeing the Gascon next to him.

"Sorry I didn't mean to surprise you," d'Artagnan apologized. Athos just shook his head in means of a reply, not really wanting to talk.

"How are you doing?" d'Artagnan asked gently, watching his friend closely. Athos was emotionally and physically exhausted. Having to deal with his own grief at losing his last family, his little sister, as well as trying to keep a hold of Aramis, was draining the older man, and it worried D'Artagnan. He was dealing with too much alone.

"I will be better once today is over," Athos replied, causing d'Artagnan to sigh inwardly knowing that was the only answer he was going to get from him.

"How is Aramis?" he asked, concern evident in his voice. They were all beyond worried about the grief stricken musketeer. The look on Athos's face told d'Artagnan all he needed to know.

"I left him sleeping. There was no need to wake him, no need to make him live through this hell of a day any sooner than needs be," Athos muttered in reply. D'Artagnan just nodded.

Athos fixed sad blue eyes on his young companion noticing for the first time the melancholy look that graced his features. He cursed himself for not asking how the youngster was. D'Artagnan and Marie had been always been close.

"D'Artagnan, I am sorry. I know you and Marie had a close friendship. You were more like brother and sister than friends," he spoke, causing the boy to look at him, slightly surprised.

"You don't have to worry about me Athos. I do miss Marie, she was like the older sister I never had. But it's you and Aramis especially that I am more concerned about. I'll be okay," d'Artagnan replied. Athos sighed running a hand over his face.

"Please don't waste your energy on worrying over me d'Artagnan. Aramis needs it more, he needs us all more than he ever has. I will be okay, I promise." Athos assured him. Before d'Artagnan could reply, they were interrupted.

"Morning gentleman," Emile's voice caused the pair to turn around seeing her stood at a distance, wrapped against the chill with Thomas held in her arms. Athos smiled getting up and taking the little boy, before leaning in and planting a gentle kiss on Emile's check causing her to blush slightly.

"Thank you," he said simply. She nodded knowing what he meant.

"No trouble. Now how are you this morning? Did you sleep okay? Or at all?" Emile asked. Athos gave her a soft smile, before his attention was grabbed by the little boy in his arms.

"Uncle Athos, where is papa and mama?" Thomas asked. Blue eyes, identical to the boy's mother's stared back at him, and Athos swallowed, not knowing how to answer. Thankfully the booming voice of his friend came to the rescue as Porthos walked into the courtyard.

"Come on you let's get you back home and cleaned up, shall we?" Porthos grinned taking Thomas from Athos.

"Will I see papa then?" Thomas said hopefully. Porthos smiled sadly at the three year old in his arms.

"You will get to see your Papa soon buddy, I promise," Porthos told him. He glanced at Athos. "I will tell him what's happening when we get home. Constance is with Aramis. He is still asleep. But I don't think he will be for long. He was becoming restless as I was leaving," he explained. Athos nodded.

"We will come by as well, soon. Bring him some clean clothes back, please," Athos asked him. Porthos nodded before biding him farewell and leaving with Emile to go back to the house.

* * *

Constance sat watching her friend sleep, guilt and sorrow eating away at her. Marie had stood in front of her and taken the bullet that was meant for her. And now Thomas didn't have a mother and Aramis had lost his reason to live. She got up and walked to the window taking a shaky breath as she let tears fall. She missed Marie so much. She had been her closet friend, the two of them had been through so much together and now she was gone.

"I should have been able to save her," a quiet voice made Constance snap out of her thoughts, she wiped the tears from her eyes quickly before turning to face the bed. Aramis had pulled himself up, his knees drawn close to his chest as he looked at her with soft brown eyes.

"I should have saved her," he whispered again, as the tears started to fall. Constance rushed to him, sitting down on the bed and wrapping the musketeer in her arms pulled him close, feeling him tremble against her body. "I should have saved her," he kept repeating over and over as he sobbed into her chest. She ran her hand repeatedly through his curls in a vain attempt to sooth him.

"Hush Aramis, it's not your fault. This is not your fault. Please don't do this to yourself. Don't let blame consume you," she begged him rocking him slightly, hoping to ease his tears.

"Why did He take her? Why is He making me say goodbye to my love today. I am not ready, I want her back!" he cried, as he clung to Constance desperately seeking comfort

"I am so sorry Aramis." It was all Constance could say to him as she soothed and comforted him as best she could, knowing the longer the day went on the weaker Aramis would become, and the more he would need them.

* * *

"Don't you look smart?" Emile smiled as she walked out of Aramis's bedroom holding a bundle of clothes to see the little three year old dressed in his Sunday best. Thomas looked up at her, a confused look on his face.

"Where is my papa? I want my papa," he said, tears filling his eyes as the confusion of being back home without his parents took hold. Porthos sat down pulling the little boy onto his lap and hugging him close, sharing a look with Emile.

"Thomas do you remember your papa telling you about the good place people go to when they die?" Porthos asked him, Thomas nodded looking up at him with big eyes.

"Your mama has gone there little one. She is in that nice place, watching over you," he said.

"But when is she coming back?" the little boy asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Porthos shook his head, "She's not coming back buddy. She's in a beautiful place with God now."

"But I want her back, papa will be so sad!"

"Your papa is very sad right now, dear," Emile said, caressing the boy's cheek with a palm, tears in her eyes. "Everyone is very sad. We want your mama to come back too. But we have to be strong, your papa needs us to be strong. Most of all he needs you to be strong."

Thomas turned big blue eyes at Porthos silently, and the musketeer smiled at the little boy. "You can be a strong brave young man, right Thomas? You think you can do that for your papa?"

"I can be brave, like a mushke – mushketeer, just like papa," Thomas replied smiling up at them. Emile smiled back, leaning in and planted a gentle kiss on the little boy's head.

"Come on I think your papa could do with a hug from his brave solider," Porthos told him, standing up with Thomas still in his arms. Emile nodded flashing him a smile as they left to go back to the garrison.

* * *

When they arrived back they found the two musketeers exactly where they had left them. Athos looked up on hearing them approach. Thomas scrambled out of Porthos's arms and ran to his uncle.

"Look at you. Your mama would be so proud of how smart you look young man," Athos told him, as he pulled him on his lap.

"I have to brave, because Papa is sad that mama has gone to the good place where God lives," Thomas explained to him. Athos smiled.

"That's right. You stay here with Emile. We will go and get your papa okay?" Athos told him placing him on the bench and getting up.

"Make sure both of you get some food. I will send Constance down too. It'll take us a bit of time with Aramis," Athos told her. Emile nodded in reply, sitting down next to Thomas watching as the three musketeers headed to their friend.

Constance looked up on hearing the three musketeers walk in. She went straight into d'Artagnan's arms, hugging him tightly.

"How is he?" Athos asked glancing at where Aramis was sitting on the bed. His knees were drawn up to his chest, his arms around himself, and his whole frame was trembling. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy and it was obvious he had been crying.

Constance shook her head. "He is not good, Athos. He can't do this today. He can't do this. His mind is not strong enough. Don't let him go," she begged causing the three of them to look at her surprised.

"We can't keep him from his wife's funeral, Constance," Porthos stated

"Then you are going to lose him completely," she replied.

"You are wrong," Athos muttered, glancing at the man, their broken brother's vacant eyes and expressionless face. "You are wrong, Constance. We have already lost him. We lost him with Marie's last breath."


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N sorry it's taken so long to get this up was tough to write and I owe all this to ThorneOfAcre who has been amazing! Enjoy and am sorry for the length and the content :( please reviews are always welcome and thank you to those that all ready have. **_

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Chapter 11

"How was Aramis when you left?" Emile asked as Constance joined her and Thomas where they were sitting in the courtyard. Constance sighed sadly, dropping a gentle kiss on the little boy's head. Thomas grinned up at her, his blue eyes blinking innocently.

"He wasn't well. He is so distraught, I don't think he should be going today. I know it's his wife's funeral, I know that, but I don't think...this is going to destroy what little is left of Aramis," Constance replied honestly, just as the clattering of hooves could be heard heading into the garrison. The two girls looked up instantly to see a carriage, several musketeers flanking each side. It came to a stop near where the girls were sitting and they got up and dropped in low curtseys as the queen was helped down by a musketeer. Constance smiled slightly seeing Thomas bow. Always eager to imitate his father in everything, he had insisted on learning the proper way to bow to the queen and king when Aramis had promised to take him to court one day.

"Please Constance, Emile please, I am not here as your queen" Anne said, waving away the soldiers in a silent order to give them some privacy. "I am here for the same reason as you, to say goodbye to a dear friend." Anne bent down so she was level with Thomas.

"Don't you look like a handsome little darling," she said to him placing a gentle hand on his arm. Thomas grinned up at her.

"Thank you, your majesty," he replied bowing again causing Anne to smile softly.

"You are a good boy Thomas. You will be a fine young man one day, and make your mama and papa proud," she said planting a kiss on his cheek before getting up. Looking around she noticed the absent faces.

"They are with Aramis," Emile said, in reply to Anne's unasked question. Anne nodded.

"How are they all?" she asked softly, taking a seat the other two following in suit.

"Coping Athos has kept it together for Aramis's sake and the other two are supporting him. Aramis…" Emile took a deep breath, "Aramis is not well, your majesty. The grief and blame is eating away at him and we fear we are losing him. It's hard to see him like that."

Anne was about to reply when footsteps could be heard. The three looked around seeing the four men in question head towards them. Porthos, and Athos flanked Aramis whose slim frame was wrapped up tightly in his black cloak, his hat pulled over his eyes. D'Artagnan walked slightly ahead but never too far from Aramis.

"Your majesty." D'Artagnan was the first to greet them, bowing to her with Porthos and Athos followed suit. Anne smiled at each of them but her eyes fell on Aramis who had also bowed to her but hadn't moved to bring himself up to full height. She moved closer to him.

"Aramis?" She called his name gently, placing a hand on his arm, she gasped slightly feeling him tremble under her touch before his legs gave out and he fell in a heap at her feet.

In that moment, as she watched the broken musketeer fall she let herself forget. She forgot she was the Queen of France and that he was a musketeer. Instead she saw a man...a friend as dear to her as a brother, a broken shell of a man who needed something to hold onto when he had lost his lifeline, whom she no longer recognized as the person she once knew. Tossing propriety out of the window, she dropped down next to him and wrapped her arms around his trembling body. She saw Athos start to move to help his fallen brother, but sent him a look shaking her head.

"Aramis look at me please," Anne begged him quietly. Slowly he brought his eyes up to meet hers causing her to take in a sharp breath on seeing the pain held in them. She placed her hand gently on his cheek, Aramis placed a gloved hand over hers, holding her compassionate gaze steadily.

"I failed her," he whispered as a fresh set of tears fell. Anne pulled him close to her again holding him tightly as he cried, forgetting about anyone else around them.

"You didn't fail her Aramis don't you ever think that. I can't imagine what you are going through right now. I can only pray that God gives you strength to get through this. We are here to help, Aramis. Do not shut your friends out, you do not need to be alone in your grief. If you do not think of yourself, you must think of your son. Thomas does not have to lose his father too," Anne said, trying to assuage the man's tears. At the mention of his son Aramis pulled away from her, realizing for the first time where he was and who was on the ground with him.

"Forgive me your majesty I shouldn't..." He trailed off helplessly not knowing what to say.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Anne assured him, taking Porthos's hand to help her up and stepping to the side as Thomas rushed to his father.

Anne felt tears that she had kept hidden for so long stream down her cheeks as she watched the musketeer latch onto his son, his entire body trembling, as he crushed the boy in a hug. Thomas, sensing his father's distress, hugged back. When Aramis let go a few moments later he pulled away only enough to look at the face of the three year old.

"I am so, so sorry my son. I am so sorry."

He took the boy's face in both hands, tears still flowing freely and placed kisses all over it. Thomas raised a tiny hand to wipe away a tear on Aramis' face.

"Papa, don't cry. You said people go to a nice place in the sky when they go to God," the little boy said placing his hand on his father's cheek. Aramis nodded, taking his son's hand and kissing his palm. "Then, Mama is going to be happy with god."

Aramis drew in a shaky breathe, his heart clenching painfully at the wise words of a son who had just lost his mother. "You're right, son. Your mama is going to be very happy. She loves you very much, you know that right?" He raised the boy's chin with a finger so that his son was looking at him. "She loves you very very much, mijo, and even if she is not here, she is not going to stop loving you."

"I know that papa. She loves you also, very very much," Thomas said, "She would not like you crying."

A short surprised burst of laughter came out of Aramis' mouth, and the sound was like music to everyone's ears. "That she won't like."

Thomas grinned at his father, wiping away the rest of his tears. "Then you have to stop being sad, papa."

Aramis sighed, as he enveloped his son in a hug once more before standing up straight, a hand still clutching Thomas' in a desperate grip. "If only it were that easy, my boy," he shook his head, "If only."

Porthos placed a hand on the musketeer's shoulder and Athos took Thomas' other hand. D'Artagnan dusted off Aramis' cloak from where it had gotten dirty from kneeling on the ground and placed his fallen hat on his head.

Athos looked at his brother in law. "You ready?"

Aramis looked back, meeting Athos's eyes for the first time in what seemed like forever. "No," he said. "But let's go."

Emile and Constance stood up with Anne, and followed the entourage of musketeers out of the garrison. Anne smiled as she watched the man in front of her walk with his back straight, and his head held up, gaining all the strength he needed from the tiny hand enclosed in his own.

Maybe Aramis wasn't lost to all of them after all. Maybe they really did have Marie watching over her beloved from above.

Maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay.

* * *

It turned out to be quite unexpectedly a beautiful day. The gloomy skies had opened up to let the sun through by the time the musketeers with their royal guest had reached the palace ground where the funeral was to be held. Traditionally Marie would have been buried at Athos' estate, beside where their brother lay, but the queen had offered her a place in the royal graveyard and Athos had gratefully acquiesced. Paris had been more of a home to her than that dreaded mansion full of dark memories. Besides, Athos couldn't bear the thought of laying his sister to rest in a place he rarely went to, he couldn't have her that far. He knew Aramis would have agreed, had he been in any state to have any form of discussion on the matter.

The musketeer had not spoken a word throughout their short walk. He simply walked with his son's hand grasped firmly in his own, eyes staring straight ahead. Athos wasn't sure if he was entirely present with them, but he knew that this was the best they could have hoped for. Having witnessed his brother break down at the queen's feet, he had almost decided to agree with Constance and keep the man from attending his wife's funeral. Aramis would have never forgiven him for that later, though.

"Everyone, assume positions." Treville's precise order was quickly followed by the musketeers spanning out, some mingling among the many people who had come to pay Marie their last respects, others going to higher ground in the nearby balconies to act as lookouts, just as Treville and Athos had planned. Only the four of them remained standing with the queen. Today, they were not soldiers, today they were there to grieve for a sister and a wife.

With the queen among those attending the funeral, the security had to be severe, and except for the four musketeers who were presently with the king, every man who wore the fleur de lis was present. A whole lot of people had also showed up, joining the procession as they had marched from the garrison to the grounds, where the priest along with the minister were already waiting with the casket. Marie had been loved by people of all classes and along with the commoners that she interacted with on a daily basis, there were quite a few nobles, all dressed in somber colors.

Athos felt humbled. Despite his noble status, these people had never given him much attention whenever he had bothered to go to court, but it seemed that Marie had won them over. There hadn't been a heart made of the coldest of ice that Marie had not thawed. Athos himself was proof of that.

Once every man had reached his post and given the signal, Treville gave a short nod and the minister cleared his throat. Silence fell over the small crowd as the minister started,

"Dear Lord, today we are gathered here to bid adieu to Marie d'Herblay, Your daughter whom you have called to Yourself at so young an age. We grieve the loss of a life so young, but we have faith in our hearts that our struggle is not in vain."

Athos blinked repeatedly, trying to keep his tears at bay. It would not do to lose composure now.

The minister continued, "We thank You for the gift of life, and today we thank You for the life of Marie and all that she was, wife, mother and a good Christian woman. We thank You for the memories of Marie which we can keep and cherish as a source of comfort and continuing thankfulness. If there are any who would like to say a few words, please step forward."

Athos was wrenched out of a daze by a hand on his arm. Looking to his side, he saw Emile looking up at him, a soft smile on her face. "Go on Athos," she said, "your sister needs you."

Athos started to shake his head, before his eyes fell on Aramis. He wasn't going to speak, he was in no state to. Someone had to step up.

With hesitant steps he walked forward nearing the casket in which lay his beautiful sister, and the minister stepped back. Turning he looked at the crowd. The queen stood to a side with Constance and Emile, and d'Artagnan and Porthos stood with Treville, Aramais and Thomas on another. Behind them was the rest of the people, stood in clusters of twos and threes, looking at him.

Athos felt their eyes on him, waiting, expecting. He gulped. He wasn't one to share his feelings, much less bare his heart in front of all these unfamiliar faces. Shaking his head of all thoughts, he thought only of Marie. Her laughing face flashed in front of him, beautiful as ever, lively eyes crinkling with laughter, rosy cheeks flushed and unbidden, a smile came upon his face.

"Marie... my little sister Marie was the most pure hearted person I had ever known. She was lovely, so full of life, so happy. She was my little sister but I learned a lot from her." He paused and took a deep breath, eyes falling on Emile who smiled at him encouragingly, nodding. "Not too long ago, I was a mess. I did not trust anyone, I had secrets so deep and shameful I loathed myself, and I did not believe I was capable of ever loving someone, or being loved in return. Marie had hope for me when I did not dare to have it for myself. She was the angel who got me back on my feet, taught me to trust again, and today I have her to thank for the better man that I have become." He wiped away the tears which had started flowing from his eyes and laid a hand on the casket, which had been kept closed to spare Thomas the image of his mother's lifeless form. "Marie my dear, I failed in my duty to protect you and I have to pay for that by burying the last of my family. But I promise, I will not forget. I will not forget what you wanted of me, what you hoped I would become. I will not forget that, my little angel."

He closed his eyes for a minute, whispering a prayer, before bowing his head and walking back and standing beside Aramis again. Emile slipped her hand into his and squeezed. He looked at her and she smiled up at him, tears in her eyes. "That was lovely," she said. He smiled back and nodded, throat too clenched to reply.

There was a slight murmuring in the crowd when the queen stepped forwards. Athos looked at the regal woman dressed in an elegant black gown and felt a deep sense of respect for her. Here was a monarch who was not afraid to reward loyalty and who recognized friendship.

Anne took a deep breath. This was probably not wise; she had had no intention of speaking. She had only come to say goodbye to a friend and offer comfort to another. No doubt the cardinal would spin a tale of belittling the royal image by speaking at the funeral of a commoner to the king, but she did not care. Marie had been a friend. She turned to face the people, her people and spoke.

"Marie was a brave, loyal, trustworthy and honest woman and she was my friend." She paused to allow the murmurs to quieten down and then continued, "Losing her is an immense tragedy, the world is a darker place with her gone. She will be sorely missed."

She beckoned to one of her ladies in waiting and they carried a beautiful arrangement of flowers forwards, placing it on the casket and Anne stood with her head bowed for a minute before moving back.

A lot more people came forwards. Emile spoke and so did Constance, though the latter got past just a few words before dissolving into tears and being helped back by d'Artagnan. Everyone had the same thing to say, that Marie had been an amazing person who had touched their hearts and that she would be missed. Athos felt his grief lessen with each person's speech; his sister had had her life cruelly cut short, but she had made the most of the little time that she had been given to have left behind so many people who would remember her fondly.

No such comfort was afforded to Aramis. The musketeer stood, a vacant expression on his face, not seeing anything going around him, not hearing anyone speak.

_Instead he heard the tinkling of his wife's laughter as she ran away from him, bending to smell the flowers, her lush hair open and flowing in the breeze. He saw her walk with her brother, elegant white dress wrapped around her slender frame, a long trail following in her wake as she made her way down the aisle._

The minister stepped forward again, "Dear Lord, by Your grace, help us to commit Marie d'Harblay into Your hands, and as we do, grant us Your peace. In the name of Jesus Christ our savior. Amen." The people parted as the casket was carried to where the grave had been dug and Aramis followed along with the others.

But he saw none of it.

_She was smiling underneath her veil, radiating happiness so bright and sunny. She came to a stop and Athos gave her hand into his. The minister started saying the marriage vows. _The minister said one last prayer. _Aramis slipped the ring in her hand_. There was a chorus of 'Amen.'_ Aramis lifted the veil and bent down to kiss her,_ the casket was lowered into the ground.

_She was enchantingly, breathtakingly, achingly beautiful. And she was his wife. She smiled at him as they broke apart, and started pulling away. His smile turned into a frown as he tried to hold onto her._

_"Darling, I have to go now," she whispered and he tried to grab her hand. She started to move away, and Aramis stood there, unable to move. He wanted to reach out to her, stop her, go to her. But he could not move._

_It was so bright, so very bright. She turned back, her dark hair outlined by the bright light behind her and Aramis could make out her lips moving. "Goodbye, my love."_

_And she went into the light._

"No!" Aramis yelled, crashing to the ground, jolted back into reality. He was all alone in the graveyard, and his eyes fell on the slab in front of him. 'Marie d'Herblay, beloved by all,' it read. It was a fresh grave.

To Aramis it looked like the ending of a horrible nightmare. Only it was even more terrifying because it didn't end, and he didn't wake up. This nightmare was very real, this was his life now. This was how it will always be.

He made himself get to his feet, his whole frame trembling. He stood, silent, in front of the piece of stone that marked the end of his world. Sighing deeply and allowing the tears to fall, he carefully removed the fleur de lis and placed it on the grave stone. His duty was now no longer to the musketeers, it belonged to someone who needed him more than king or country, someone who would always be more important.

"We will be together again one day, my love. Of that I am sure," he whispered. "Until then, rest well, my angel."

* * *

By your grace,

Help us this day to commit N. into your hands

and as we do, grant us your peace,

In the name of Jesus Christ our Saviour. Amen.


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N thank you thank you for all your follows and amazing comments. Sorry it's taking so long for updates I am crazy busy at the moment but hopefully after this week I should be ok and can crack on. Enjoy will try for an update over the weekend. **_

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Chapter 12

An ordinary man consumed by grief loses himself to the darkest and deepest confines of his mind, but a soldier; whose purpose in life is to fight in the name of king and country, who leaves a trail of blood in his wake, who does not consider a life without love and honor worth living; for such a man, that place can become a spiraling staircase to hell.

That was where Aramis was; hell, as he stood silent and still, staring at his wife's grave. The tears had come and gone, and the anguish had dulled until it was just an ache in his heart. Instead his entire being was being consumed with blind fury, the longer he stared at where his wife lay. The tremors in his body were no longer from sobs but from the burn of anger flowing through his veins. It dawned on him what he had to do. He would not return home, he could not. He was not worthy of the love of his friends, his brothers, his son. Not until he had avenged the death of his beloved. He had to atone for failing her, by killing the vermin that murdered her. Then maybe, just maybe then he would have redeemed the right to protect again.

Decision made he dropped his hat down by the grave along with his cloak shaking off all contact to the musketeers, to his previous life. This, though very much musketeer business will not be for duty or honor. This would be justice, yes, but this time there would be no taking prisoners, no mercy. This was solely Aramis' mission.

Besides, he could not risk being recognized by his clothes. Dropping all weapons, bar his treasured musket and rapier, he glanced once more at the cold slab that was all that was left of Marie. Saying a silent prayer he turned on his heel and left not knowing where exactly he was going, but with one goal in his mind - revenge. Lucas and his men would die and Aramis was going to make sure it was as slow and painful as possible.

* * *

"The captain is overseeing the final preparations. You all leave tonight." D'Artagnan said softly, watching his love as she seemed to pull herself back from wherever her mind had been. Constance nodded not meeting his eyes. He frowned taking a seat next to her.

"Constance, what's wrong? Talk to me please," he begged her. She sighed deeply, finally meeting his gaze.

"That...that bullet D'Artagnan. It was meant for me. It should have been me who was shot not Marie...Thomas should still have his mother and Aramis..." She trailed off as a fresh set of tears took hold and she fell into his embrace.

"Constance no! No don't ever think that. Oh God, please don't even say that!" D'Artagnan told her firmly. She shook her head pulling away from him.

"Why not? It's the truth! I am surprised Aramis doesn't blame me. He should! it was meant for me. I should be dead!" she cried turning he eyes from him. D'Artagnan placed gentle fingers under her chin tilting it so she once again locked her gaze with his. Softly he wiped her tears his own eyes pleading with her to understand.

"Aramis doesn't blame you because it's not your fault. I can't bear to hear you speak like this Constance. I don't even want to imagine a life without you. The thought of having to feel the pain, the emptiness of losing someone I love, that life is not worth thinking of. Marie choose to save you Constance because she loved you, now do her memory justice and live for her, keep her alive for Thomas and for Aramis, they need you to honor her memory," D'Artagnan pleaded with her. Constance didn't say anything instead leant in and placed a tender kiss to his lips.

"I love you," she whispered.

"And I you. And I will miss you everyday we are apart, but you need to be safe. Just look after Thomas because god forbid if anything was to happen to him..." D'Artagnan could not finish. He knew if harm was to befall the youngster then they would lose Aramis completely.

"I promise you I will treat him like he is my own son. I will be as close to a mother as I can be to him," she assured him, smiling as they shared another kiss.

* * *

"What you said today at the funeral it was beautiful," Emile said, bringing Athos back from his thoughts. He turned to face her offering her a small smile.

"I didn't prepare to speak, it just felt right…" He took her hands in his, looking straight into soft green eyes. "Because it was true. I plan on doing all I promised her. She hoped one day I would find someone I could love, who could restore my faith in everything I lost hope in. And now I have found you, Emile. You are that breath of life that's come to my rescue and I thank you for that," Athos said, his words ringing with sincerity. Taking a deep breath he leant in and placed a gentle kiss on her lips relieved when he felt her respond. They pulled away and he smiled as he noticed her blushing.

"I will never hurt you Athos, I promise you that, and when we are reunited again I will do all I can to make you realize that things of the past cannot be allowed to determine our future," Emile promised nodded sharing another kiss with her,

"And I will hold you to that promise. But for now, please stay safe and look after Constance and Thomas for me. You will be back soon."

Emile was about to reply when a little voice stopped them and Thomas came running into the room.

"Uncle guess what, I am going on an adventure!" Thomas exclaimed as Athos caught him in his arms as he knelt down to greet the little boy. He glanced up at Porthos who just gave him a small smile.

"That you are. You make sure you look after Emile and Constance. I am leaving them in your protection. Do you think you can do that for me?" Athos asked him. Thomas stood up tall and placed his little hat on his head grinning at his uncle.

"I promise to be brave and look after them. But then papa will be alone," Thomas said seriously. Athos smiled sadly at the boy, running a hand through his dark curls. He really was his father's son.

"Your papa will not be alone, we're here to look after him. You have my word little one," he swore, removing Thomas's hat briefly and planting a gentle kiss on his head before placing the hat back, and standing up, just as the captain appeared, d'Artagnan and Constance behind him.

"We really need to get things going Athos," Treville ordered though there was a softness to his voice. "And then you need to find Aramis, he shouldn't be alone for to long." Athos nodded in agreement turning back to Emile as they said their goodbye. The three musketeer watched as they were escorted away by four of their fellow men knowing that this was best and that the girls were well protected.

"Well gentleman I shall leave you to find Aramis and trust you will help him through the rest of today and the days to come. God knows he is going to need it," he said to them before turning and leaving them alone.

"I say we go back to Marie's grave. It's the best place to start," Porthos suggested breaking the silence. The other two merely nodded in agreement and followed as he led the way.

* * *

It was D'Artagnan who reached the grave first. Aramis was no where to be seen. Instead he turned to face Athos and Porthos, Aramis's fleur de lis held in his hand.

"He's left us," D'Artagnan muttered as Porthos stepped around him cursing on seeing Aramis's beloved hat along with his cloak and his weaponry. He turned angrily to face Athos.

"I told you we shouldn't have left him alone. That he wasn't well enough to be alone and now...now he has gone god knows where on his own and I think we all know what to do!" Porthos fired. Athos stood silently accepting his words, guilt washing through him. It was his fault he should have stayed with his brother, by his side like he had promised. Aramis was somewhere in Paris set on revenge of that Athos was sure, and he knew he would stop at nothing to see Lucas dead.

"We can not do anything tonight. We will go to the captain tomorrow first thing and then decide what to do," Athos said before turning and leaving the grave not caring if the other two needed to get out of there.


	14. Chapter 14

_**A/N I am so sorry about the lack of updates life has gone crazy after this week it will be fine and I can write. Please keep reviews coming thank you always. **_

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Chapter 13

Treville stood glaring dangerously at the three men, standing at attention in front of him. In front of them lay the cloak, hat, weapons and the most worrying of all, the discarded fleur de lis of a damaged musketeer, who was now somewhere in Paris, set on a course for self destruction.

"What possessed you - all of you - to leave him alone, right after his wife's funeral? Tell me please. Explain what exactly compelled you to leave a man, a brother, alone to his thoughts with a mind as weak as his is at the moment?" Treville demanded, his harsh tone causing them all to flinch. He looked at each of the men in turn waiting for an answer.

"I thought he deserved the right to be alone to say goodbye in private. I didn't think he wouldn't come home, that he would go on his own. If I had known...," Athos muttered, every part of him feeling guilty at what had happened.

"This is bad. This is really bad! He is not well, you all know that! And yet you still left him alone!" Treville snapped as he paced the room.

"We know that and there is nothing we can do to fix it. We all feel guilty but we will find him, captain," Porthos told him firmly.

"I hope you do and fast. He is out there on his own, god knows what kind of trouble he'll get into," Treville sighed, dropping down in his chair, worry etched on his features at the thought of the young musketeer somewhere in Paris, driven only by blind rage. He looked up at them still standing silently in front of him.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Aramis won't be easy to find - and when you do find him be careful you don't know how his mind will be. He will not be the man you know, " Treville warned them. Not a word was uttered as he watched the three of his best men leave. He shuddered slightly at the thought of Aramis on the hunt for Lucas alone. Aramis was a passionate person and his love for his wife had been all he had lived for, for the last 5 years. She had been his entire world, and then when Thomas had come along his world had been complete. And now, because of one man, he had lost everything and they had lost him.

* * *

"Where do we start, he could be anywhere," D'Artagnan muttered, breaking the silence that had sat over the three men since they had left the captain's office. Somehow, they had all ended up back at Aramis's house. Porthos just shrugged, glancing at Athos who was stood staring out the window.

"Athos? Any ideas?" Porthos asked him gently causing the older man to look over at them and shake his head slowly.

"I know where to start, but it wouldn't be easy," he paused running a hand over his face suddenly feeling exhausted, he hadn't slept at all the night before, plagued with guilt and worry. He had let his little sister down by not being there when Aramis needed him the most and there wasn't a single second that went by that he did not regret having done so. "Aramis has taken off to go after Lucas. Taking off the fleur de lis does not make him any less a musketeer and no one knows better than Aramis how to conduct an investigation. So that is where we will start. But he will not want to be found, so he will cover his tracks ad hide from the shadows. He would know what we would be looking for, so he would know what to expect. Like I said, it's not going to be easy," Athos said, aware that every second they spent talking and not actively searching for their missing brother, he was out there all alone. D'Artagnan stood and walked over to his friend and mentor, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"We will find him Athos, and we will find him soon," he said firmly, looking at Porthos who just nodded in agreement. "But you have to stop blaming yourself for leaving him alone. You couldn't have foreseen this happening."

Athos shook his head. He did not deserve his friend's easy forgiveness. "I have failed my sister already. I promised her I wouldn't let him go through this alone," he muttered placing his hat on his head. "But talking about what could have been will not change anything, so let's hit the roads and start looking for him," he added heading to the door making it clear that he did not want to discuss the matter any further. D'Artagnan sighed, but followed silently.

* * *

Aramis was well known in many areas of Paris. The streets he was walking in now did not fall under one of them. The public brothels were not a place he frequented. Ever since Marie had come into his life, there had been no woman who had been let into his heart or his bed. But even before that, he had never had to offer money to get what he needed. His charm had always been enough. It wasn't now, and he had to do this. He hadn't set foot in a brothel in over seven years, but tonight; tonight there was no restraint.

He wasn't out of place there, with the formal robes he had worn to Marie's funeral dirtied and torn beyond salvage, and the bottle of wine from which he had been steadily drinking from for the last few hours swinging lazily from his arm. It didn't matter though. Nothing did. There was no welcome numbness, no relief from the deep seated ache in his chest, no blessed oblivion.

His bloodshot eyes searched the streets for the face he was looking for, scanning each woman dressed in the distinctive garb which labelled them as a prostitute. Ah, he smiled. There she was.

"Olivia?" he asked, making his way towards a girl who could not have been more than fifteen. He leaned in so that she could hear him over the din. A sickening scent of too much cheap perfume almost made him choke, but he kept the smile on his face.

"Well, aren't you a handsome one, monsieur," the girl said, trailing a finger over his cheek. "What can I do for you, love?" Aramis smiled

"Oh, I have a few ideas," he said, winking. She giggled before taking his hand and taking him inside a large house.

It was quite a famous brothel, among those looking for the very young, and as Aramis was led to an upstairs room, he saw many young boys and girls in various states of undress, performing various services for their 'clients.' A wave of repulsion coursed through him, but he squashed it down. He had to do this, there was no other way. Olivia closed the door behind her, and pointed at the tray on the bedside.

"So monsieur," she said, her voice inviting. Aramis turned around to look at her just as she unlaced the front of her dress. He smiled at the practiced ease with which she stared at him, the sultry look completely out of place on so young a face and his stomach churned. He made his way over to her slowly, not taking his eyes away from hers. He took her hands in his, leaning in so that his lips were touching her ear. This close, he could feel the slight tremble in her body.

"Listen to me very carefully," he spoke, "A few days ago a man came to Paris and stayed at the inn two streets from here. The owner told me you had been working there that night. I know that man, Olivia, and I know that he prefers his girls young. Do you know whom I'm talking about?" Aramis watched the girl's face closely as it changed from a seductive expression to one of intense fear in a matter of seconds. She was afraid, that much he could make out. But she wasn't afraid of him, she had made no attempt at freeing her hands from his grip. Aramis let go of her and took a step back.

"I'm a musketeer, Olivia. And this man I'm looking for was once one too. He was dishonoured and stripped of his title. And now he seeks revenge. He is a very dangerous man. Three days ago he killed my wife and I have to find him. Will you please tell me what you know?" Olivia took in a deep breath and nodded. It took her another minute to compose herself enough to start talking.

"I was working at the tavern yes. It was a slow night and this man had been sitting there staring at me for a long time. My sister was with me, she warned me not to go. But she's sick, you know and we don't have the money to go to the apothecary's. So I went to him, and… and we spent the night together." Aramis nodded.

"Did he say anything that you can remember, of what he planned, or where he would go next?"

"He… He was very violent, very angry. After… after, he took hold of my throat and started to strangle me. I couldn't breathe. He demanded that… that I beg him to stop… -" Olivia's voice hitched as a sob escaped her lips. Aramis took her by the elbow and led her to the bed in the middle of the room, sitting her down. He remained standing, himself. He waited for the girl to regain her composure before asking, "Then?"

Olivia wiped at her eyes, looking at him resolutely.

"I did. I begged for my life and he let me go. Then he said that he intended to make each of them beg for their lives too." Olivia paused, obviously thinking back to that night. She shook her head, "He kept swearing a lot but he didn't drop any names. I don't know who he was talking about. But he said he was going to strangle them, just as he was strangling me and he was going to feel the life drain away from their bodies…"

Aramis felt his blood run cold as the girl trailed off, staring at her hands. He did not need names to know whom Lucas had been talking about. The man was gone beyond any point of redemption. When Aramis would find him, there was no duty, no honour, no sense of morality which would stand in his way of strangling the life out of that filthy swine with his bare hands. That was all the mercy he deserved. He took out a considerable number of coins and put it down on the bed.

"Buy your sister the medicine that she needs Olivia."

The girl looked at him with grateful eyes as she grabbed his hand gently causing him look up into soft blue eyes held with compassion.

"Thank you Monsieur and I am sorry about you wife. You are a kind man you do not deserve to be alone." She told him, her innocent words making Aramis sick to the bone, causing a fresh set of emotions to flood through him, heighten the dull ache in his heart and causing his chest to tighten as he tried in vain to stop the tears that he had promised he wouldn't cry from falling. Not saying a word he squeezed her hand before removing his and quickly leaving, he was feeling suffocated, he had to get out.

Once outside he fell against a wall in an ally behind the building his body shaking from the what he had heard and the fresh wave of anger that had taken a hold on him. Pushing himself up taking a few moments to steady himself he headed in the direction of a the nearby tavern Lucas had been in for more wine and to decide what his next move would be in a hope the bastard would return.

* * *

Athos stood by his sister's grave after spending the day trawling the taverns at the southern edge of the city and having no luck. None of the owners seemed to remember a man of either Aramis' or Lucas' description entering the tavern. But they had all assured him they would alert him, should either of them be spotted. He was pretty sure that the other two wouldn't have turned up with anything either. He wondered if Aramis was still in the city or, knowing they would be looking for him he had taken himself out of Paris on his search for vengeance.

"I am sorry Marie I have failed you, I know that. But we will find Aramis. I won't rest until we do I beg you to watch over him, my darling angel. Guide and protect him till we find him please. And don't worry, I'll bring him back. Thomas will have his father, don't worry," Athos said, turning his face to the skies and closing his eyes. He did not know how long he stood there.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N _thank you to anyone sticking with this and still reading things pick up a bit now promise! Please let me know thoughts fellow writers know that reviews keep us going. thank you._**

* * *

Chapter 14

Aramis sat watching all the goings on in front of him, hidden by the shadows at the back of the tavern, sharp eyes trained on one man. He was drunk and bragging about killing musketeers. There was nothing new about that, every spineless Red Guard bragged about killing musketeers when drunk. But this man had been extra careless. He had let slip the name Aramis was hoping to pick up. With a mug full of cheap ale in one hand and an even cheaper whore hanging on to the other, the red guard had let slip how it was a renegade musketeer who had paid him a hefty sum to enter the city undetected, and then how the ex-musketeer had carried out an attack on his own brothers, though not without some considerable advice on his part.

This wasn't exactly the kind of person Aramis had had in mind when he had started his hunt: a red guard whose loyalty was as cheap as the uniform he wore, but this idiot seemed to know where Lucas was and that was enough for Aramis.

If he was honest with himself, a small part of Aramis just wanted to take the vermin at his word, and pummel him to death with his fists alone. If this Red Guard really had even the smallest part to play in Marie's death, then god help him, but Aramis was not sure what he would do. He would kill the man of that there was no doubt. It was all that he was capable of making the man feel before he died, that was the part that frightened Aramis himself.

It had been three days since Aramis had left the Garrison and he had spent every second of those three days trawling the taverns on the outskirts of Pairs, asking after Lucas. So far he had had no luck, nothing other than what the girl at the brothel had told him, and she had only confirmed what he already knew. He had barely slept or eaten, choosing instead to focus his time and energy on finding the vile excuse of a man.

Now it seemed like his luck had changed and he was damned if he was going to lose this chance. Getting up he silently slipped out the tavern and into an alleyway, smirking as the Red Guard staggered out not long after. Grabbing his pistol from his belt he snuck up behind the man and hit him with it on the head. He didn't bother catching the man's body as it went limp a moment later, letting it crash down at his feet with a satisfying thud. Glancing around to make sure he hadn't been seen, Aramis easily dragged the man to a nearby barn that he had cased out with the intent of doing exactly what he was doing now. He took his time to position him on a lone chair right in the middle, tying knots so secure, even Porthos would have difficulty wrenching the boy free. Aramis frowned. The Red Guard did look a little too young, he couldn't have been older than D'Artagnan. He froze for a second, the thought of Porthos and D'Artagnan, and what they would think if they saw him now, getting ready to torture information from a young man, rising unbidden in his mind. Shaking his head, he forced himself to relive that moment, the moment that flashed before his eyes every time he closed them, the moment that was etched as deeply on his mind as his own name; the moment when the light had gone from his wife's eyes and her body had gone limp in his arms. He grit his teeth as his mind all too readily played that memory again, and the next knot was even tighter than the last. There was no question of mercy, not now.

* * *

Anne stood silently, watching the young musketeer in front of her. D'Artagnan was knelt by Marie's grave and from his bowed head and closed eyes, Anne guessed he was in silent prayer. She sighed sadly, she knew that the two had been close and she wondered how he was coping with all that was going on.

"Good afternoon, D'Artagnan," Anne greeted him quietly. The musketeer startled, getting to his feet before quickly correcting himself and bowing low.

"Good afternoon, your majesty. Forgive me for lapsing in my duty," he apologised bringing himself up to full height at Anne's nod. Anne smiled at him, gently placing a hand on his arm.

"You have nothing to apologise for. It seems we both felt the need to visit a friend," she said. D'Artagnan merely nodded, his gaze falling back on the cold stone that marked where his close friend, his sister rested.

"Have you any new of Aramis?" Anne asked bringing him back to the present. Noting the confused look in D'Artagnan's eyes she added, "Captain Treville told me what had happened."

"No, nothing yet. It's been three days and we are still no closer to finding him," D'Artagnan replied honestly as they fell into step heading back to the palace. "It's worrying. We don't know anything about what he has been doing and even if he's still…" His voice trailed off and a haunted look crossed his eyes.

"I have complete faith that you will find him and that you will find him alive. And I will pray that when you do, the three of you and little Thomas are enough to bring him back," Anne assured him.

"Thank you your majesty. I really hope you are right," D'Artagnan muttered, flashing her a tired smile as they continued on to the palace.

* * *

Aramis sat silently, wiping a cloth over his pistol. He was sprawled out on another chair he had found in the barn, legs stretched out in front of him. A noise made him pause in his work and look up. He grinned at seeing the idiot drunk coming too. Smirking, he stood up and walked over to him, gun on his shoulder.

"I did wonder how long it would take you to wake up! I didn't hit you that hard," he called out loudly, fully aware that the man would be sporting a bitch of a headache, both from the cheap slime that he had been pouring down his throat and from the blow Aramis had dealt him. He leaned in closer so that he was mere inches from the man's face, "Now you're going to tell me your name."

"Why should I tell you anything?" The man croaked back a few moments later. Aramis sighed, shaking his head causing the man to look at him in confusion.

The musketeer gave his prisoner a bright smile just before he slammed his fist into his face. The man doubled over in pain, but Aramis stopped him with a hand in his hair and wrenched his head up. "You want to try that again, my friend?" he asked, his voice once again loud and chirpy, the manic grin fixed in place. The man whimpered, spitting out blood that was dribbling from his nose. There was something in Aramis that seemed to settle at the sight.

"You don't know who you're dealing with! I'm a Red Guard. When the Cardinal hears of this…" the man trailed off midway as Aramis let go of him, threw his head back and laughed. It took a while for Aramis to catch his breath enough to fix the Red Guard with a sceptic stare.

"You're what? Twenty? Twenty One? Do you even have a commission yet, or are you just hanging around hoping to get noticed? The cardinal will hear of this, my ass."

Suddenly he grabbed the boy by his throat, leaning down so he was inches away from his face.

"Now, if you don't tell me what you know of this rogue musketeer that you helped enter the city, you will wish the thought of entering that pathetic regiment had never crossed your mind." For the first time, Aramis was gratified to see true fear in those hazy eyes as the man struggled to breathe. Aramis loosened his grip and took a step back when it seemed like he was ready to talk.

"His name was Luke, that's all he told me. He gave me a sack of coins to use my post at the eastern post on the outskirts to help him get into Paris. I did that, and since then I haven't seen him. I heard him mention killing some musketeers, he was planning on doing that," the man said, the words coming out in a rush. A terrified look came over his face when Aramis walked over to where he had dropped his pistol and picked it up. "I swear, that's all I know!" Aramis nodded his head, amiably.

"Oh don't worry, I believe you." The man relaxed, a sigh of relief escaping from his lips. "Which is why I am going to kill you."

The man spluttered, his eyes going wide with fear and disbelief. "But… But I told you everything. I swear! I don't know anything else!"

Aramis loaded his gun slowly, taking the time to blow away the excess gunpowder at the muzzle once he had dropped the ball in. "Which is why your life is worthless to me. Now, I can't have your precious cardinal finding out, can I?"

"No, no, please. Please I won't tell anyone. You don't have to do this!" the man pleaded.

Aramis tilted his head, giving the man a puzzled look. "But of course I do!" He smiled before narrowing his eyes and aiming his musket. "You helped Lucas."

Aramis pulled the trigger...


	16. Chapter 16

_**A/N again so sorry for the wait! Life is busy busy at the moment! hope to get more written over the week and get another update up start of next week! Thank you for your amazing support and reviews keep them coming they mean so much! Enjoy**_

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Chapter 15

"Damn it!" Aramis cursed loudly as tried again to thread his needle, his shaking hands not making it easy. Finally he managed it and taking a large swig of wine before pouring some on the fresh wound on his hip, he shakily started to stitch along the jagged edges, biting down on his lip to stop his cries as he did so.

Finally he fell back against the bed of the small room he had been renting, exhausted. He had managed to track some more of Lucas's men but they had been none too helpful and instead had proceeded to fight him. Had he been at full fitness, Aramis would have taken the three out easily but with the lack of food and sleep over a very bad week he had come off a little more beaten up than usual, and he had dejectedly taken himself back to the tavern where he had spent the last hours stitching his various wounds up. Closing his eyes he pulled his rag of a cloak tighter round himself. His body was getting weak and somewhere in the back of his mind a logical voice was telling him he was killing himself doing this but he couldn't give up. He couldn't. Lucas would pay, and if he got himself killed while doing it, then so be it. He would die knowing he had gotten justice for Marie. If Aramis was honest with himself, the idea of death seemed almost welcoming; at least he wouldn't have to live without his wife.

Closing his eyes his thoughts fell to the one reason he was still on this earth, the only reason he had not given into the dangerous temptation of taking himself from this world. Thomas's face came to him, blue eyes so like his mother's, sparkling cheekily. Aramis's eyes flew open as he drew a shaky breath in, wiping harshly at his sunken features, pushing himself up as he pulled his knees close to himself, wrapping his arms tightly around them. How had his life gone so wrong? His mind drifted to a time that seemed so long ago, when Marie was in his arms laughing and warm, and Thomas was wrapped around his leg, tugging it to get his father's attention. Letting go of his resolve he let his tears fall as he cried for the first time since he had buried Marie.

* * *

Porthos sighted deeply as he entered yet another tavern on the outskirts of the city. Walking straight up to the bar and ignoring the looks from the other patrons, he called the landlord over.

"I am looking for my friend. He is about this tall, dark eyes, dark skin. He is wearing a black cloak that will no doubt look more like a rag now, a blue hat with a feather in it," Porthos reeled off the same words he had repeated over and over the last few days. "Please if you have anything for me I would be grateful. He is in a really bad state right now, and we need to find him," he added.

"I have nothing for you musketeer," the landlord said, "but he on the other hand…" the man trailed off, nodding his head in the direction of a young red guard slumped on a far chair, drinking. "He came in yesterday, bullet lodged in his arm. Close range. I know the man you seek. Ex-musketeer gone hell bent on revenge, but I have not seen him," he added. Porthos nodded a thank you before heading over to the boy. Placing a cup of wine down in front of him and pulling a chair up so he sat opposite him.

"Evening" Porthos greeted him flashing him a bright smile. "You and I. We need to talk. I believe you may have had a run in with my friend yesterday?" Porthos asked still smiling though his eyes flashed dangerously. The youngster pulled himself up straight and Porthos did not miss the fear that flashed in his eyes.

"Your friend is mad. I told him what he wanted yet he still shot me! Mad! He shouldn't be allowed to walk these streets! He is a danger to all you wait till the cardinal hears about this," the boy hissed, crying out as Porthos grabbed his bad arm and yanked him hard so he was inches from his face.

"You are lucky he did not kill you! I don't know what you did but I am guessing you helped Lucas into Paris somehow. He is not mad! Lucas killed his wife. Shot her in cold blood. So you see, my friend, you are very lucky to be alive and if you don't want your luck suddenly running out, you tell me where he is," Porthos snarled feeling the boy tremble underneath him.

"I don't know where he is! He knocked me out, I woke in some barn, where he tortured me, and then shot me. Next thing I know, I'm waking up on the street. I don't know where he is!" he replied, crying out in pain as Porthos suddenly let go of him.

"Anyone hears about this I will find you and will kill you myself is that clear!" Porthos warned, his voice low. The boy nodded tears spilling down his cheeks and for a moment Porthos felt sick. The lad was barely out of his teenage years. He shook his head to rid it of such thoughts a second later, and stood up. He had a friend to find. At least Aramis was still alive but his actions to a guard younger than D'Artagnan confirmed what they all feared he was alive yes, but he was far from well.

* * *

Emilie smiled at Constance as she joined her in front of the fire, handing her a cup of wine.

"A penny for your thoughts?" she said causing the younger girl to snap out her thoughts and look over at her, smiling weakly.

"I am sorry. I was just thinking of the boys," Constance apologised taking a sip of the wine.

"You have nothing to apologise for. Want to talk about it? I know you still blame yourself Constance. You must stop, you are not to blame for this," Emilie told her firmly. Constance shook her head as a fresh set of tears spilled over.

"She was my best friend Emilie. And she sacrificed herself to save my life. Why? She had a family, every reason to live. More reason than I have ever had, certainly. And now..." Constance trailed off as she broke done grateful for the comforting arms that took hold of her, pulling her close for a hug.

"My darling please stop this. Marie would not want you blaming yourself. She needs you to be the mother Thomas will need and the friend Aramis will rely on. They need us to stay strong," Emilie soothed. Constance nodded pulling away from her friend.

"I am going to go check on Thomas," she said flashing Emilie a watery smile before going into the room that held the three year old. Smiling at his sleeping form Constance went over to him reaching a hand out to run through his thick curls. She froze as she felt dry heat radiating off him.

"Oh god no," she begged as she turned the boy on to his back, his face pale and damp, exactly as she had feared.

"Emilie! Emilie come quickly!" Constance shouted for her, pulling the little boy onto her lap and looking up as Emilie appeared in the doorway.

"He is running a fever," she said and a look of panic crossed over Emilie's face. Both of them knew that children as young as Thomas rarely survived any illness, and they couldn't lose him. If they did, they might as well hand Aramis a noose.

"I will get one of the musketeers to go fetch a physician then I will bring some cold water. Pray we have caught this quickly. He will fight this," Emilie told her, her voice betraying her own doubt. Constance merely nodded as she watched Emilie rush out the door. She turned her gaze back onto the little boy in her arms, his little body trembling slightly from the fever.

"Hang in there little one, please. You papa needs you," Constance begged him planting a kiss on his forehead.

* * *

_**oops sorry for the ending...slight cliff hanger there will try not to keep you waiting to long. Let me know what you think :) thank you in advance! **_


	17. Chapter 17

_**A/N bit of a fill in chapter this one so enjoy thank you for all your amazing reviews! Hopefully another will be up end of the week! **_

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Chapter 16

Constance and Emilie stood silently, watching the physician as he tended to the boy laying so still on the bed. In the time it had taken for him to arrive Thomas had only gotten worse. It worried the two friends at how quickly he had gone downhill.

Finally the physician stepped away from him, turning to them, a sad look on his face.

"I am afraid I can't give you good news. There is nothing I can do for him. All we can do is let the fever run its course. The next twenty four hours will be critical. If he survives them, he has a fair chance of coming through the rest of it," he explained gently. Constance sank onto the bed in despair, Emilie resting a hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you. We will do all we can to keep him comfortable," Emilie replied quietly. The physician just nodded, packing up his stuff.

"I suggest you get a message to his father if you know where he is. Just in case… I will come and see him first thing in the morning," he told them before letting himself out. Hearing the door close caused Emilie to move. She picked up a quill and some parchments, scribbled a note before heading to one of the musketeers guarding them to take it to the garrison.

Returning to the room she found Constance gently holding a wet cloth to the little boy's forehead.

"He has to get through this Emilie! I dare not imagine what it will do to Aramis if he doesn't," Constance whispered bringing her eyes up to meet Emilie's. Her friend sat down next to her.

"He is a tough kid Constance. He will fight this," she soothed, sending out a silent prayer as she did so.

* * *

Treville looked up on hearing the door to his office open, and saw three exhausted musketeers walk in. He put down the piece of paper he had been reading, and stood to greet them.

"Gentleman. Any news on Aramis?" he asked them though he already knew the answer even as D'Artagnan shook his head.

"Nothing since Porthos found that boy that he shot," he replied.

"At least he is still alive, that is something," Treville pointed out.

"Alive yes, but we don't know in what state, and for how much longer. It's been ten days...we must be so close to finding him, and yet he's always one step ahead," Porthos said, his voice laced with frustration. Treville sighed not having an answer to ease his mind.

Picking up the note in his hand a sombre look gracing his features, he looked up at the three of them.

"I have just received this note from one of the musketeers at the safe house," he stopped, watching the panic wash over each of his men.

"Have they found them?" D'Artagnan whispered his voice pleading his captain to tell them the answer was no.

"No they haven't. Thomas is sick with fever," Treville told them. Athos's head shot up, his eyes blazing with emotion at his captain's words.

"No. No you are lying," he hissed, snatching the paper from his hands, his eyes needing to see the words themselves. He sank onto a chair as he read Emilie's writing. "Oh god," he breathed, reading the note over and over not wanting to believe what was written on it.

"I am so sorry Athos," Treville said, not knowing what else to say.

"If he...if he dies...Aramis will... I can't do this," Athos muttered, dropping the note and leaving the room. D'Artagnan went to follow but Porthos stopped him.

"Let him go. Come on we need to get back out there! We are so close," Porthos told the youngster. D'Artagnan just nodded. The pair inclined their heads to their captain in silence before leaving heading to the last place Aramis had been seen.

* * *

Aramis lay on the small bed, his slight frame shaking as his body battled against the fever that was threatening to take hold. He hadn't moved from the bed that day, feeling zapped of all strength, faith and hope after spending most the previous night crying for his lost love and his son.

Aramis knew that lack of careful treatment and care to the injuries he had gained from the fight had caused them to become infected. He was sick he knew that; his body had refused to move throughout the day and he had allowed himself to stay in his small room to give his body a little rest. Tomorrow he would continue his hunt, but for now he needed to sleep. He could feel his eyes grow heavy as he let himself be engulfed by the darkness.

_He opened his eyes to bright white light. He felt better than he had felt in days and the bed was amazingly soft. Rolling over, he squinted at the golden sunlight pouring through the curtains, bathing the room in a heavenly glow. He remembered this place, it was his parents' home, the house he had grown up in._

_This was his room… There! The wooden horse that his father had carved for him on his sixth birthday. And there was the board with the bulls eye torn away, hanging on the wall from when he was ten and he had perfected his shooting. A delighted laugh tore from his lips, as he bounded towards the door. The air was rift with the delicious smell of pancakes. It must be Sunday, Mother always made pancakes on Sunday before service. He made his way through the achingly familiar hallway, coming to a halt at the kitchen door. Everything was exactly as he remembered it. His mother was at the stove, his father was at the table, trying to light his pipe without catching his wife's attention and… with a jolt, Aramis laid eyes on the third person in the room._

_Marie turned towards him, her face lighting up in a lovely smile. She barrelled towards him and flung herself in his arms. He grasped her tight, some part of him strangely convinced that if he let her go, she would disappear. He buried his face into her hair, her sweet and familiar perfume bringing tears to his eyes._

_Marie made to pull away, and hesitantly he loosened his grip. She looked at him, a frown marring her lovely features. "My Love, you're not supposed to be here."_

_Aramis shook his head, "But where else would I be darling? We're together isn't that enough?"_

_Marie pulled away, anguish on her face. "No! No, you can't be dead! Our son needs you!"_

_What was she talking about? Didn't she realize that nothing mattered? Aramis made his way towards her, but she stepped back. What was wrong? He stopped, looking around at the anxious faces of his mother and his father and the terrible agony on his wife's face and slowly, slowly it came back to him. "Marie… you are dead!"_

_Marie nodded, "Yes, my love. I had to go. But it's not your time yet. You can't leave our son!"_

_Aramis ran a hand through his hair, "I… I don't…"_

_A small voice caught both their attentions. "Mama, Papa?"_

_They turned in unison, and Aramis felt his heart stop. Thomas stood at the door, clutching at his teddy bear, looking at his parents._

_"Thomas!"_

Aramis woke up with a gasp, bathed in sweat, his son's name on his lips.

* * *

Athos paced angrily at his sister's grave as he thought of the words that he had just read. Why was this happening? What had they all done to deserve what had been bestowed upon them? He stopped, turning to face the hard grey stone as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Don't you dare take Thomas from this world Marie do you hear me? That's not fair! Aramis needs him to live, we all do…" He trailed off the anger in his voice faltering. "Please we need Thomas to stay alive. He's the only hope we have of bringing Aramis back. Don't do this Marie I beg of you, give your son the strength to survive this sickness, please my darling angel, please," he begged her, dropping to his knees, exhausted from all that had happened of late. They had to find Aramis soon. Athos knew in his heart that time was no longer on their side and that if the musketeer came up against Lucas alone now he would be killed in an instant. They had to find him.


	18. Chapter 18

_**A/N thank you again for all your amazing support! I love you all. I am currently writing the next update so hopefully won't be to long. Hope you enjoy keep hitting me with you thoughts. **_

* * *

Chapter 17

The three musketeers slumped against the wall outside yet another tavern, none of them wanting to go in to face even more bad news.

"Come on. We need to ask," Athos finally broke the dismal silence, leading the way into the dingy building.

"Bonjour, Monsieur. I wonder if you have seen our friend, a musketeer around - ..." Athos trailed off when the barkeeper raised a hand.

"Yes I have. Word has spread of whom you are looking for. He stayed here two nights ago," the man told them.

"Did you see him? How did he look?" Porthos questioned him. The landlord looked at him sadly.

"Like a corpse. I understand that he lost his wife but the man needs to be looked after. He scared all my girls by almost fainting and crashing to the floor."

Athos nodded his head. They hadn't really expected anything better. "We'll see to it that he gets help. Do you or any of your girls know where he went?"

" One of the stable boys followed him to an abandoned barn a few miles from here. The boy was terrified when he returned, convinced your friend was torturing people there. I stopped my son from calling the Red Guards, hoping that you lot would show up soon." The man explained.

Athos placed some coins firmly in his hands, "You have our gratitude monsieur. He is a good man who has been taken over by grief. Thank you for understanding."

The barkeeper simply nodded, calling over a young boy and instructing him to lead them to the barn.

* * *

Aramis didn't really remember how he had managed to fight the man who was currently tied against a post into submission. He did not even know where he was, he probably wasn't in Paris anymore. His brain was making too much noise, and it was getting harder and harder to concentrate, his body weak beyond believe and radiating a dry heat, his clothes clinging to him soaked from sweat. But everytime he looked at the man's face, the memory of him throwing his head back and laughing at how musketeers were supposed to protect the king when they couldn't even protect their families kept filling his sick, confused mind. Aramis had eavesdropped for a while on the man, and learned that he had definitely been the one to point Lucas to Aramis' house. That had been last night. After that, it was all a complete rage filled blank till this morning when he had came to and found an unconscious and battered man tied firmly.

Summoning up energy from God only knew here, Aramis yanked the man's head back and growled at him, "I'll ask you one last time. Where is Lucas?"

So far, all he had managed to get out of the pig was his name. Jean grinned at him manically, blood dripping down to his chin.

"You know, I heard she begged for mercy before Lucas shot her. Begged that her darling husband come save her," Jean mocked.

Murder flashed in Aramis's eyes as he rammed his fist hard into the man's stomach with every ounce of what little strength he had left.

"Don't...speak...of...my...wife!" He punctuated each word with a punch, until the man was doubled over, gasping for breath. He grabbed him round the neck slamming his head against the post.

"Where is Lucas? _Tell me!_" he yelled. Jean smirked, before spitting blood at Aramis' face.

"Go to hell, musketeer," he snarled. Aramis abruptly let go of the man, letting his body slump. He took out his pistol, loaded already and lifted it towards the man, willing his hands to stop shaking and his vision to become clear.

"Then I will have to kill you," he spat, his voice venomous. He moved his finger to the trigger just as he heard the door open. What happened next happened so fast no one could have stopped it.

D'Artagnan entered first, his eyes falling on Aramis about to shoot the battered body in front of him. He did not stop to think. He took in his friend's shaking hands and deathly pallor and the need to help his brother made him step forward.

"Aramis" D'Artagnan called out causing the musketeer to turn around, startled.

Athos entered the barn right behind D'Artagnan and the sight he was met with; with one of his brothers pointing a pistol at another, a deranged look on Aramis' face would haunt him to the day of his death.

"D'Artagnan, _no_!" he shouted just as a gun shot rang through the room.

* * *

_**oops sorry try not to keep you hanging for to long.**_


	19. Chapter 19

_**A/N super long and emotional chapter here. Thank you to my new readers for giving this story a chance. Please let me know what you think reviews mean so much and help keep the flame of writing this burning. Enjoy**_

* * *

Chapter 18

D'Artagnan staggered back as the bullet caught him in the shoulder. He cried out feeling the all to familiar pain surge through his body and the red of his blood quickly stain his shirt. Athos and Porthos were by him in moments.

"Are you okay?" Porthos fired ripping into his sleeve to see the damage. D'Artagnan did not answer instead his attention focused back on to their friend watching in horror as he shakily re-loaded his pistol before bringing it up towards his temple.

"Aramis NO!" D'Artagnan cried pushing Athos and Porthos off and stepping towards the musketeer. Porthos went to move but Athos stopped him, Aramis was like a scared wild animal one false move and they would lose him Athos knew that. His brother's eye were fixed on the youngster and he was certain Aramis had not registered the other two were there.

"We move we are at risk of the trigger going off. He sees only D'Artagnan. He is on his own now." Athos muttered quietly seeing the pain look on Porthos' face as they were left to watch helplessly.

"Don't come near me." Aramis warned his voice raw with emotion. D'Artagnan stopped, but did not break eye contact.

"Aramis please don't this we are here now, we can help you." D'Artagnan told him gently ignoring the pain in his shoulder, he knew he was the only hope of stopping Aramis from taking his own life.

"You can't help me. No one can. I am not safe to be here to be alive. I shot you I am not safe. I don't deserve to live I have failed everyone." Aramis replied his voice shaking. D'Artagnan watched as Aramis tightened his unsteady fingers around the gun and swallowed his panic returning his eyes to lock with dull dark ones.

"You haven't failed anyone Aramis. I am fine you only caught my shoulder it will heal. But you haven't failed anyone. Please let us help brother please." D'Artagnan begged him, stepping forward again though stopped seeing the fear flash in Aramis's eyes, he held up his hands showing his friend he would come no further.

"I want this to stop. I need this pain to stop. I don't understand what's happening any more. I just want to be with Marie again. My head hurts I just... I can't stand it any more I need to make it stop." He cried, shutting his eyes tightly as pain surged through his head making him push the gun flush to his temple.

"No Aramis please we can stop the pain I promise you we can stop it hurting. This isn't the way. Think of Thomas Aramis he needs his father." D'Artagnan pleaded as Aramis's eyes shot open at the mention of his little boy. To the three musketeers relief Aramis pulled the gun away from his head.

"Thomas needs me." He whispered as he locked confused eyes with D'Artagnan's own. D'Artagnan nodded again keeping his gaze as he stepped closer, till he was able to remove the gun from his friend's hand grateful that Porhos was quick enough to catch the exhausted musketeer as his body finally gave up.

"Well that was very entertaining. Shame I was hoping he would take his life one less of you for us to kill. Though looking at him I am not sure he is going to live much longer anyway." A mocking voice snapped them all back to reality as they remembered that Aramis had a prisoner. Anger flared inside Athos and he spun on the man, harshly slicing through the tight ropes. Catching him he shoved the man hard against the wall.

"You my friend need to learn to keep your mouth shut! Tonight you will be acquainted with the prisons and then tomorrow you will tell us where Lucas is. And we will get it out of you. Aramis is sick and weak. We..." Athos paused gesturing to himself and Porthos "are not and we will stop at nothing to find him. So you can either show us yourself where he is or tell us. Either way by tomorrow night we WILL know where Lucas is hiding." Athos hissed taking pleasure at seeing fear flash in the eyes of the man as he glanced Porthos over Athos's shoulder the bigger musketeer still on the floor cradling a semi conscious Aramis, but Athos knew the look of murder that would be in his friend's eyes. Nodding in satisfaction he dragged the man out of the barn leading the way, as D'Artagnan followed slowly with Porthos behind them Aramis held easily in his arms now completely out cold.

* * *

Treville would always be grateful he had been stood looking down on the court yard of the garrison when the three musketeers returned with Aramis. Seeing them stagger on to the yard he moved down the steps to great them stopping suddenly to survey the scene he was greeted with. His eyes first feel on the missing musketeer and he draw in a sharp breath as he took in his limp form held protectively in Porthos's strong grip.

"Get to him to the infirmary now Porthos he needs help." Treville ordered him not being able to tear his eyes from the barely recognisable marksman; his best marksman. Porthos just nodded in reply before disappearing with his friend Treville praying they weren't to late to save him. Next he turned to the youngest of the 4 who looked pale from the loss of blood and was holding his shoulder.

"I will ask what happened later D'Artagnan go and get that stitched." He told him gently D'Artagnan nodded following the other two.

"Alexander." Treville called over an older musketeer.

"Captain." Alexander greeted him, glancing at Athos and the man slumped next to him.

"Take this man and have him put in chains in the prisons I will visit him myself later." He ordered. The musketeer nodded and with the help of another the easily dragged the battered man away leaving just the captain and his lieutenant.

"Go to them Athos I will come and see you all later you can explain what happened. For now go and get some food and go to Aramis." Treville ordered him gently.

"Thank you Captain." Athos muttered flashing him a tired but grateful smile as he made his way to the infirmary.

As he neared the building the strangled, panic cries made him run the last few steps before he almost fell through the door. He froze at the sight that greeted him. To his surprise Aramis was pushed against the wall shaking violently his eyes wide with fear and confusion. How he had the strength to hold himself up Athos would never know. But they had to get him to the bed. Aramis was beyond any help or control at that moment he knew that. He also knew his friend was sick to the bone with a fever and infection to injuries. He was to close to death which was causing him to become delirious and uncontrollable. It broke Athos to know that the man in front of them was not their friend, and that Aramis was no longer with them, he wondered if they would ever get him back.

"What do we do?" Porthos asked, his voice begging Athos for an answer. Athos brought blue eyes up to meet his friends brown ones.

"We need to knock him out." Athos said quietly Porthos nodded sadly he was right and the only way they were going to be able to do that would be by hurting him. Porthos walked up to the cowering musketeer every step breaking him even more hating himself for what he was having to do. Athos stepped round ready to catch Aramis when he fell. Porthos paused as scared brown eyes gazed up at him.

"I am sorry Aramis. Forgive me." Porthos whispered before he connected his fist with his friend's head, Aramis dropping straight away into Athos's arms. They dragged him to the bed and gently laid him down allowing the physician to attend to him the man sending them a sad look.

* * *

"I really thought he was going to take his life* D'Artagnan muttered breaking the silence that had fallen over them as they sat watching Aramis sleep, a while later, his body trembling slightly every now and then due to his sickness or his dreams they weren't sure.

"If I am honest for a second so did I. You did well D'Artagnan. To get through to him when he is like that..." Athos trailed off not wanting to think any more of what they could be facing now had the youngster not got through to their friend.

"So tomorrow we give Lucas all he deserves and more." Porthos growled clenching his knuckles. "Let's not make death quick for him he needs to suffer. For all he has made Aramis suffer. Death is almost to good for him." He added his voice laced with such venom that it startled the other two. Athos laid a hand on his friend shoulder.

"He will get all he deserves Porthos. We will get Aramis his justice. And then we will do all we can to get him better. We did after Savoy and when Marie was taken, we can bring him back again." Athos soothed.

"But will we ever get him well enough to take the Fleur~de~lis back?" D'Artagnan asked quietly. Athos looked at him saying nothing understanding what his friend was saying. Aramis's mind was weak, weaker then it had ever been and even he wasn't sure on the answer to that, but they had to try and save him and this time they would have Thomas to help. Taking a deep breath he placed a hand over his sleeping brother's own one before bringing his eyes up to meet the other twos gaze. Silently they understood each placing their own hand on top of his.

"I don't know if Aramis will ever come back to us fully, but we have to try. We have to." Athos told them begging them for their help. The two nodded.

"All for one..." He started holding their gaze steadily.

"And one for all" they finished together.


	20. Chapter 20

_**A/N as always thank you for all your amazing support! Love reading your thoughts so please keep them coming. Sorry waits are long. I am busy at work and have an exam to study for at the end of the month. They story is nearly done probably bout another 5/6 more updates when I write them. Have another in mind already though! Not sure when the next update will be so I leave you this nice long chapter for now. Enjoy.**_

* * *

Chapter 19

Athos and Porthos stood in front of the battered body of the man who had helped end Aramis's life as he knew it. He had happily admitted that he was the one that had been spying on Marie, and now they understood why Aramis had been so close to killing him. Considering his stubbornness to tell them anything of where Lucas was, they were pretty sure they would end up completing what Aramis had started.

Athos leant in closer to the man, a murderous look in his eyes while Porthos stood just behind glaring dangerously at him.

"Now we can do this the easy way. That being you telling us where we can find Lucas. Or...we can do it the hard way, which will cause you pain...a _lot_ of pain," Athos said steadily, standing back and shrugging, "Either way my friend we will get what we want," he added, exchanging a glance with Porthos before returning his gaze back on their victim.

"I am telling you nothing. Why would I? You are all scum musketeer. You all deserve to die. Though he got what he wanted with your friend. He may as well be dead..." He stopped mid-rant, a blood curling scream erupting from his throat instead as a loud crack could be heard and in one swift movement Porthos had easily broken three of his fingers. The man let out another scream and started to sob pathetically as he snapped a fourth followed by his thumb on his right hand. When Porthos had finished he stepped back looking at the sniveling piece of vermin in front of him.

"I will break every bone in your worthless body until you tell us where Lucas is!" He snarled moving to the other hand and hovering over it. When the man had regained enough composure, he glared at the two of them and spat at Porthos' feet. Porthos shrugged, a not quite smile on his face. "Fine, have it your way." He started to snap each of the fingers on the left hand.

"Stop please I will tell you," The man begged finally his voice hoarse from screaming out, though just for good measure Porthos finished the job.

"Speak! And if you hold back any information you will regret it!" Athos warned leaning back against the wall, eyes narrowed dangerously as the man began to speak, telling them all they wanted but not without a little more persuasion from himself and Porthos to the point that by the time they were done the man was no longer able to walk or have any use of his hands. It was a good job he was to be hanged.

"Tomorrow we ride out to where Lucas is hiding. Ten men are nothing though I am sure the captain will be more than happy to send some of our own with us. I just wish I could kill the bastard myself," Athos growled the last of his words. Porthos placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You could just claim it as self-defense and kill him that way?" he suggested. Athos shook his head.

"No, we shall do our duty. He will be sentenced however the king sees fit though I have a feeling it will be the worse way possible if the Queen has her way," Athos replied.

"And Aramis? Will we allow him to watch the man who killed his wife die? Allow Aramis his justice?" Porthos asked. Athos looked up at him sadly.

"I am not so sure Aramis will be well enough for it. I know what you mean and I understand. But we have to think of the aftermath too. He is barely alive, Porthos. He won't be anywhere near strong enough to face an execution. Physically or mentally," Athos watched his friend's face seeing the pain and worry etched on it. "Come on let us get back to him. Tonight we look after him, tomorrow we fight for him and get him his justice," he added gently, leading the way back to the garrison.

* * *

Constance lay curled up on the bed that Thomas had been in for the last few days. To the relief of the two girls he had survived the worst and was now on the way to recovery. Just that day he had managed to eat a little soup. Now he was pushed close to Constance, his little hands curled around a bit of her dress as he sought the comfort of a familiar touch. Gently she ran her hand through his tousled curls, feeling him settle into the affection just as Aramis always had. Constance leant her head back against the head rest and sighed deeply, wondering how long they would be stuck in this place. Soon the three year old would be strong enough to travel home and she wanted to leave as soon as he was. Keeping him away from Aramis this long was not good for either of them.

She was brought out her thoughts feeling a presence at the door and she looked up, seeing Emilie stood there. She smiled warmly at her, though it faltered on seeing the somber look on the other lady's face.

"Emilie what is wrong?" Constance asked keeping her voice low so as not to wake Thomas. Emilie walked in, joining Constance on the bed. She dropped her gaze onto the little boy, visibly struggling to not allow herself to dissolve into tears at the news she had just been given.

"Emilie please. Tell me what's happened?" Constance begged, causing her to bring sad green eyes to meet her friend's worried ones.

"It's Aramis, Constance. He is really sick and they don't know if he will survive..." she trailed off her voice catching in her throat.

"What do you mean? What's happened? Emilie please talk to me," Constance pleaded, her mind racing at what could have happened to their friend.

Taking a shaky breath, Emilie spoke, "He went missing after the funeral and was gone for twelve days looking for Lucas alone. We don't know the full story of what happened while he was gone. They found him but he is in a bad way. Sick to the bone with a fever. But the worst thing is his mind, it's not his own any more. That is all I was told and that's all the men know," she explained, watching as tears spilled down Constance's face mirroring her own sorrows as she drew her spare hand to cover her mouth. Emilie moved closer wrapping the younger girl in her arms.

"We need to go home, Emilie. They need us home. Aramis, he needs his son back in his arms before it's too late to save him," Constance sobbed.

"I know and hopefully it won't be long till we can return," Emilie soothed not knowing what else to say.

* * *

It was the cry for help from the youngest musketeer that caused Athos and Porthos to rush into the room where they were greeted by the sight of D'Artagnan trying in vain to calm the distressed man down as he lashed out to free himself from whatever terrors had taken hold of him in his feverish state. Athos noted the pale features of his friend and saw fresh blood on his shirt. He thought to tell the youngster to get his own wounds looked after before thinking better of it. There was no way D'Artagnan was going to leave Aramis in such a state.

Instead Athos hurried over to the bed, taking hold of one of Aramis' lashing arms, letting D'Artagnan take the other. Porthos, facing their sick friend, a look of immense sorrow on his face, kept his thrashing legs down.

"Get off me, I have to get to her! They have Marie. They are going to kill her. I have to get to her..." Aramis screamed, trying with all his might to free himself, his eyes glazed over and wild. "Please they are going to kill her!" he cried, trying to break free of the musketeers' grip. Athos could feel the man's weak body tremble, feel the dry heat radiating off every part of Aramis. The fever had well and truly gripped him and Athos knew that soon their friend friend would no longer be with them. He swallowed heavily death was threatening to take him and he wondered if Aramis would survive another night.

"Please. Please let me go," Aramis begged as he continued fighting against their grip. Athos was about to speak when Aramis suddenly stilled, his eyes wide with fear. Athos felt his heart clench in panic, something was wrong.

"Aramis?" Porthos called to him gently there was concern in his voice. "Aramis talk to me please?" Porthos begged him.

"They shot her," he whispered, his breathing quickening. "They shot her. No, no she can't die! I have to help her!" Aramis cried out, as he doubled his efforts of fighting against them again.

"What is going on?" Treville's voice rang out causing the three musketeers to look around, startled.

"Let me go, they shot her. Please I have to save her," Aramis screamed, his whole frame shaking violently.

"Captain please the water it has a sedative in it," Athos ordered, Treville grabbed the mug rushing to the side of the distressed marksman.

"Hold him still," Treville said, though it was easier said than done.

"No leave me alone. Let me go please," Aramis sobbed pushing the mug away. Athos and D'Artagnan shared a look before they tightened their grip, ignoring the painful cries from their friend knowing they were hurting him. Treville managed to pour the liquid into Aramis's mouth before holding it close, forcing the man to swallow.

The four men stayed like that for what seemed like a lifetime before Athos and D'Artagnan felt Aramis weaken in their grasp. His fighting subsided as he finally gave into medicine and exhaustion. The two friends eased him back against the pillows, and Porthos let go of his legs, pulling the covers round his friend's frail body before everyone collapsed in the chairs in the room.

"We need men tomorrow captain! This needs to end. Aramis's suffering needs to end. And the only way it will is when Lucas is dead. Then we can bring Thomas home and hope we are not too late to save him," Athos finally broke through the silence. Treville nodded placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Be ready at dawn you have eight men at your disposal. Bring him back and we will see he gets the sentence he deserves for what he has done to you all," Treville swore to him. Athos just nodded.

"Tonight though, stay with your brother. And pray for him, as I will. He has a long fight ahead of him. Let us pray he has the strength to still want to fight," he added, before tilting his head a leaving them alone.

Porthos went and got some water and a cloth before sitting by Aramis's side and gently dabbing down his forehead and chest to cool him down. Athos sat on the other side soothingly running a hand through his friend's curls more to settle his mind then to settle Aramis. D'Artagnan just sat in his chair completely exhausted, his wound throbbing painfully as the broken stiches ooze blood. He was too far gone to care, though. The three of them stayed awake throughout the night, none of them daring to sleep instead wanting to keep a watchful eye on their sick brother, praying that each breath he took that night would not be his last.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 20

It was no surprise that by the time dawn broke the following morning, the fever had completely taken hold of Aramis. The physician had been called during the night as he worsened and he had bled the sick musketeer out but other than get progressively worse, Aramis had shown no change. The physician had started to lose hope now, his harried features and unintelligible murmurings worrying everyone. Indeed by the morning he had sat back and declared that Aramis' fate was in god's hands now and there was nothing more medicine could do for him.

So it was with heavy hearts that Porthos and Athos left the garrison that morning accompanied as promised by eight seasoned musketeers.

"Alexander," Treville called the older musketeer, his eyes trained on the younger man lying still in the bed in front of him. He along with his best men had spent the night in the infirmary.

"Captain?" Alexander greeted him, following his gaze to Aramis. "How is he?" he asked. Treville looked into the eyes of the aged solider.

"The fever has taken hold of him… He is on the verge of death. I need you to send word to the safe house. As soon as Thomas is fit enough to travel, they are to return back to Paris," Treville ordered "I just hope it's not too late," he added sadly.

"I will go straight away," Alexander assured him, casting one last look at the marksman before turning and halting at the sight of the Queen standing at the door.

"Your majesty," he greeted her, bowing low before leaving as Treville appeared behind him.

"Your majesty." Treville simply said, giving her a bow. He did not need to ask why she was here. She had most likely heard of Aramis' condition. Anne looked into the room over the Captain's shoulder.

"Captain, I heard that he was found. How is he? Is there no hope at all?" Anne asked. Treville hesitated before shaking his head.

"When they found him, he was delirious and hallucinating. He even shot young D'Artagnan before they got him to calm down though the lad is fine now. His condition has only worsened since then. I would say that there is hope as long as there is life in his body, but the man seems to have lost the will to fight," he replied.

"Can I see him?" Anne asked, though there was a hint of authority in her tone. For a second, Treville thought about declining, What if the fever was contagious? Or what if Aramis came to during the visit and lashed out at the queen? He would never forgive himself if the Queen got hurt on his watch. However, one look at the woman's face told him now was not the time to show loyalty to the crown. Now was the time to be loyal to a friend, a son. He nodded stepping aside to let her in.

"God have mercy!" Anne gasped, her hand instantly grasping the cross round her neck as her eyes fell on Aramis and she lowered herself in a chair by his bedside. She let her eyes take in every part of the musketeer, she reached out gently pressing her fingers to his body, flinching as she felt how thin and frail he was. She turned her gaze onto the captain who stood silently just behind her.

"What happened to him...is he...will he die?" she asked quietly, not sure she wanted to hear the answers. Treville sighed deeply, sad eyes meeting hers.

"The fever is not breaking, your majesty. There is a good chance it will take him. The physician has said that he has tried everything and it is only a matter of when now… But then he doesn't know my men, he doesn't know how stubborn they could be especially these four." Treville did not know whom he was consoling, the queen or himself. Anne nodded her hand still grasping her cross the other taking hold of one of Aramis's cold ones.

"Is there anything I can do?" she questioned.

"There is nothing we can do for him, but keep him comfortable and settled," Treville replied.

"Then I will tend to him," Anne said resolutely.

"Your majesty I don't think..." But Treville was cut short as Anne turned her eyes back on him, a fierce look held in them.

"I would appreciate it if you send word to the king that I would be at the garrison until further notice, and that the royal physician is to be sent to the infirmary as well," Anne ordered, her voice brokering no arguments. "I will not leave Aramis. I owe that much to Marie. At least not until Emilie and Constance return," she added, her tone slightly softer.

Treville watched her for a few moments but he knew he had no argument instead he bowed, "As you wish your majesty. D'Artagnan will return soon from some rest. He will want to stay with Aramis," Treville warned her as he brought himself to full height. Anne nodded.

"I would like the company. Now go and relay my message to the King," she dismissed him. Hearing the door close, she turned her attention back on the dying musketeer. Taking a cloth, she tenderly dabbed at his forehead and down his chest in a desperate attempt to cool him. She could feel the heat coming from Aramis, see the sweat on his body as his weak body tried in vain to fight off the sickness that was so close to consuming him.

"Don't you dare die, Aramis do you hear me? You will not give up. You cannot leave your son an orphan!" Anne ordered him, stopping her work she dropped the cloth back in the bowl grasping his hand in both of hers and resting her forehead on it.

"Please hear me Aramis. You have to come back to us. You have to fight I beg of you, don't give up," she pleaded letting the tears that had been threatening since she first entered the room fall, as she prayed to god to spare the life of the only parent Little Thomas had left.

* * *

"Your majesty," a voice brought her from her thoughts a while later, causing her to turn around and see D'Artagnan leaning against the door looking exhausted, his left arm in a sling.

"D'Artagnan, come and join me. I could do with the company," Anne said, smiling warmly as the musketeer took a seat on the opposite side of the bed. Anne watched as his eyes fell on Aramis, worry and sorrow taking hold as he struggled to accept the fate of his friend. Leaning over she took his good hand in hers, squeezing it gently, causing D'Artagnan to lock brown eyes with her blue ones.

"He is still alive, D'Artagnan. Don't give up on him just yet. I haven't." Anne assured him, smiling sadly. He returned it, letting go of her hand and sitting back in his chair, eyes fixed on his friend.

"D'Artagnan, will you tell me what happened? How did you get shot?" Anne asked him gently. D'Artagnan did not answer immediately, instead he ran a soothing hand through Aramis's curls to calm him as the musketeer stirred slightly, not wanting him to wake.

"Aramis shot me. He didn't mean to. He was delusional and very very sick and I just startled him. It was my fault really, but then when he realized what he had done..." D'Artagnan stopped, not sure whether he should tell the queen that their friend had turned his gun on himself.

"Why did he have a gun?" Anne questioned. D'Artagnan looked at her for a second before answering her honestly.

"He had captured someone that he was torturing information out of. It's what we think he has been doing while he has been missing. He was about to kill him, I walked in he turned the loaded gun on me and shot me in the arm," he explained to her, watching as the queen stared at him in shock.

"That's not all is it? Tell me D'Artagnan," she pleaded. D'Artagnan swallowed hard as the memory of Aramis holding a gun to his head flashed in his mind.

"He...he turned the gun on himself...he was going to take his own life," he muttered at last, putting to words what had been infinitely more painful than getting shot. Anne gasped bringing her hand to her mouth as tears filled her eyes.

"He was going to give up," Anne whispered. The young musketeer nodded.

"He didn't know what was going on. He just said he wanted to be with Marie. He kept saying his head hurt. That's when we knew that his mind was no longer his own," he replied sadly, watching as Anne brought Aramis' hand to her lips, kissing it gently.

"We must pray for him D'Artagnan. Pray god gives him the strength to survive all he is facing right now," she told him. D'Artagnan merely nodded as they both fell into silence, keeping careful watch as the musketeer between them slept.


End file.
